


The Subtle Redemption of Lance Tucker

by interestedbystander



Series: The Subtle Redemption of Lance Tucker [1]
Category: The Bronze (2015)
Genre: Angst, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-01
Updated: 2017-12-18
Packaged: 2018-11-21 16:57:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 26,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11361681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/interestedbystander/pseuds/interestedbystander
Summary: Lance is a perfect fixture in your past. Suddenly, he’s roaring into focus as your younger sister’s National Coach. As warning signs scream around you, resistance is almost futile. But you’re an adult now. You’re stronger than the silly little kid you were before, right?Right?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thought I'd post this **multi-chap** here - if you're keen please subscribe. Usually leave my Tumblr stuff on Tumblr, but this seemed to get a good reception and figured I'm share the smut! Enjoy xxx

You are just doing this to be a wonderful, supportive older sibling, you reminded yourself as you made your way through the crowd in the packed arena towards your allocated seat. Impressed, even you could admit this was a pretty fantastic turnout. Your dad and step-mother gave you warm hugs in greeting, both surprised you actually made it to something you promised you would (promises were easily broken, they had learned with you).

Under normal circumstances, you made sure you somehow found the excuse to miss the majority your half-sister’s (Emily) gymnastics meets. She always understood, she was considerate like that. You had a life in the big city and a flourishing career to focus on.

Sadly for you, the excuses were few and far between when Emily excitedly texted you she’d made State and was competing for a place to enter Olympic trials in the city. Your city.

You took a seat beside next to your dad and some of the families of Emily’s gym, who greeted you kindly as they recalled your once familiar face (though you couldn’t really place many of them anymore). Emily was stretching on the sidelines; still in her warm ups, her coach hovering over her and giving stern direction. Her eyes black and full of focus. Nothing like you were in your short attempt at professional gymnastics. You enjoyed it, but it didn’t beckon the same way for you it had for Emily. She had your talent tenfold, the mental capability to prepare for the big meet and the eagerness to be and beat the best of the best.

When you gave gym up to focus on your studies, your family wasn’t entirely surprised. They were pleased you with your endevour to learn but were hoping you’d at least try to make your gymnastics scholarship go all the way. Just being a good student as well as a good enough gymnast, any dreams of the Olympics were never serious.

_Especially after Lance Tucker._

You knew he would be there, he was a National coach these days. You’d yet to spot him and that dirty swagger that left those he passed weak in the knees. Luckily you felt safe enough, hidden well in the stands to avoid him tonight. Your luck ran out about five seconds later.

…the man once with the world at his feet and there he was now, his familiar strut combing the sidelines, taking in the competitors and watching various gymnasts vaulting, on the floor and the bars, hands lingering on slim hips and a wide stance.

You’d be kidding yourself to disregard how good he looked, time had been kind to him even if he looked like America had thrown up on him in the National team sweats. He was always so smooth. Hair slicked back (he still applied way too much product), clean-shaven across his sharp jaw and that fucking ridiculous arrogant smirk that was perma-glued to his thick, full lips. His pants hung too low on his hips –

Maybe not everything changes, you cursed yourself. He still looked incredible.

You managed to tear your eyes off him as you heard Emily’s name called, relieved for the distraction as the friends and family around you cheered for their hometown girl. Emily preferred the floor but she was announced for the beam, once your chosen event. You crossed your fingers, this was all Emily ever wanted and you prayed, hoped against hope, that the gym Gods were on her side in a way that they never were for you.

It wasn’t hard to see that even though this was once your pet event, she was better than you in every facet as she brought herself onto the beam to commence her routine. You now realised the fear everyone else felt when they watched the beam. So long out of the game, you suddenly noted that while four feet wasn’t high off the mat, you only had a width of four inches to ensure you didn’t eat it.

_‘Four inches? I bet you can take it lot deeper than that, sweetheart,” Lance whispered in your ear hotly as he sidled past you while you waited for your turn on the beam. He made it across the gym to the men’s vaulting team, giving you a thoroughly supercilious, wet smirk over his muscular shoulder as you watched him dab some chalk on his hands as he passed it. Rubbing his palms together tightly and clapping, the chalk blasted into the towel boys face, sending him into a coughing fit as Lance snickered, proud of himself, his teammates hooting wildly._

_You blushed as the girls giggled around you, all noticing Lance’s obvious sneak attack to bring you to your knees you tried in vain to appear unaffected by. It was no secret he had made you the new object of his affection, but you knew boys like him. A lot of the boys on the team were the same, all thought they were God’s gift. But then there was Lance. He knew he was and there was no one game enough to argue the point with him. He had the most promise of one day becoming a National champion and if he continued to keep treating his body like the temple he respected it as, he could become an Olympic medallist too._

_…maybe even Gold._

You blinked, not sure where the memory came from but firmly shaking it away, giving Emily your undivided attention again. She deserved it. Lance ‘The Fucker’ Tucker… did not, no matter how hard you tried to keep your eyes off him as he continued to prowl the sidelines.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Interested Bystander writes](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/interestedbystanderwrites) on Tumblr.  
> 


	2. Chapter 2

Watching Emily stick her landing as her floor routine concluded, you rapidly wiped away the tears that threatened to stream down your face as you shot out of your seat, cheering wildly for her. She was flawless, precise and to be frank, perfection personified. It had been the best floor routine of the evening, the score you expected guaranteed she would be joining the extended Olympic team and ensured she wasn’t cut from it either. She would be going to the Olympic Games, under the tutelage of Lance Tucker.

Emily, your sweet Emily, would be going to the Olympic Games!

 _Under the tutelage of Lance Tucker._ Oh.

Emily was giggly and demure as she acknowledged the crowd with a bashful wave, clearly overwhelmed by the ovation she had received and made her way back to the sidelines. She caught your eye and gave you a cheeky wink. She was well aware she had nailed it, a confidence you didn’t share, she knew she’d just done it. You watched Emily gaze up to the scoreboard, covering her mouth with her hands in anticipation and you knew she expected the score, but finally her resolve cracked, squealing and bouncing around hysterically as her coach wrapped her into an emotional grasp.

You couldn’t be prouder of her: all the time, hard work and sheer determination had paid off. She’d made the extended National team. Next was the Team USA training camp to select the best talent from across the country and your little sister was going to be one of them.

* * *

“Please, _please_ , let me introduce you to my coaches,” Emily begged as you openly panicked. _No, no, we don’t need to do that_ , you thought as her palms wrapped around your wrist in a vice grip.

She had ran to you after her name was called, thrusting her strong arms around you and bursting into excited tears as you attempted to calm her. It baffled you she’d come directly to you, but you’d been told for years that Emily had grown up wanting to be ‘just like her big sister’ and the way to do that was through gymnastics.

Only now, she’d exceeded all your previous achievements. Every single one.

Dragging you down the bleachers, she forced her way to the sidelines and introduced you to her coach before you she gripped your jacket in her still chalky hands, pulling you across the arena in midst young women wailing, devastated with their coaches or ecstatically bouncing into flips and tumbles in jubilation your body hadn’t been through in years. Your sister definitely was in the latter of the bunch, but somehow managing to contain herself.

“It’s okay, Em,” you said, attempting to halt her up as she moved purposefully towards Tucker, but the sheer euphoria and adrenaline coursing through Emily’s body couldn’t stop her force no matter how hard you tried. “We’re gonna be late for our dinner reservation with your parents – ” you added meekly. But it was no use, the words fell on deaf ears and suddenly you were in front of ex-Olympic Gold medallist, Lance Tucker, busy hyping a group of girls who’d found a slot in the extended Olympic team, smirking at their excitement.

There he was, hell on the best thighs you’d ever ridden. The one reason you left gymnastics for the big city on the other side of the country. After he unceremoniously dumped you after admitting his quest for Gold was all that really mattered (”I can’t be tied down. I’m in my fucking prime. Are you trying to ruin my chances at greatness?” It still stung to even consider his final words to you), you slinked away, tail between your legs as just another notch in the bedpost of a serial asshole.

“Well, well. Look what the cat dragged in,” Lance sneered thoughtfully, eyes falling on you from hair to feet in only the way his stony eyes can drink you in; his bright white teeth chewed his full lips before a thorough sweep of his tongue ran across his bottom lip, making you wonder if he was enjoying what he was seeing or just put off like the very last time. “Are my eyes deceiving me?”

“I wish,” you bit back as your sister’s eyes flicked between the two of you, unsure, a little bewildered and probably embarrassed at your response. No, she’d never know about your and Tucker’s fling. No good would come of it. “Doesn’t look like much has changed,” you acknowledged the gaggle of young gymnasts gazing at Lance from a small distance.

“They know a champion when they spot one, I plan on making them champions too,” he sniped back with a casual shrug. “Congratulations,” he turned to Emily, who suddenly broke into a wide, blushing smile as he rested a large palm on her shoulder. Jesus Christ, it was almost no different from your first meeting with him. Lance Tucker gave you his attention and you were a mess. “I hope you’re prepared for the Olympic training camp,” he continued as she nodded, her perfectly styled curls bobbing at the back on her head eagerly as he massaged her shoulder. You shook your head, ready to smack his hand away but he removed it just in time. “We’re gonna work hard, harder than any pace you’ve ever been put through before.”

“Yes, Coach. Can I just say I’m super excited – ” Emily began, hands thrust around wildly.

“This your kid sister?” he asked you, ignoring Emily’s genuine thrill at just being in his presence (you’d have to give Emily a chat to later not to trust him and keep a good, professional distance. You knew how Lance’s mind worked and the deviousness that came with it – it would be just like him to consider bedding sisters would be a goal of his), a small smile playing at his lips. “I didn’t realise that gymnastics ran so… _hard and deep_ in the family.”

“And on that note,” you tried, taking Emily’s hand in yours and she carefully snatched it away, not ready to give up her time with Lance just yet. She knew there were other girls vying for his attention and wanted it for just a minute or so more.

“Coach, I just wanted to say, I’m really looking forward to camp and I will do anything I can to get into the squad. I feel like I’m in the best physical shape of my career and under your guidance and direction, I really hope I can be as good as Maggie,” the word vomit tumbled out of her mouth and it was hard not to be excited and a little concerned for the direction Emily’s career could go in. You’d suddenly been dragged back into this life that you’d easily fled when your career fell apart, you focused on your studies and now had a well-to-do job from it.

“You’ll be fantastic. I have complete faith in you,” Lance encouraged Emily, barely giving her his attention as he watched you intently over her shoulder. “Long hours, lots of competition. I don’t want to see cute and friendly. Team USA will select only the very best to take overseas. If you’re serious about this, you treat your teammates as the enemy as you will be competing against each other for each and every final spot,” he instructed loud enough for the girls a few feet away to hear.

“Yes, Coach,” Emily said, straightening. She had responded in a way you never could to an authoritarian. If it were anyone else, you’d almost be impressed. “I want to be the best and I’ll show you every day that I can be.”

Lance gave her a pleased smile. You knew he loved hearing that shit poured over him and could turn anyone’s words into something that would somehow benefit him. “Emily. It’s Emily, right?”

_Of course he fucking knew it was Emily._

“Yes, Coach,” Emily replied, the excitement of him actually knowing her name bought a flush to her cheeks as your nails raked into your palms, breaking the skin. You held your breath, hoping he wouldn’t say anything that gave you the excuse to belittle or slap him in front of his team.

“Congratulations again. See you at camp,” he concluded, before sauntering off. “Prepare to work, kid!”

You let out a sigh of relief, for all three of you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Interested Bystander writes](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/interestedbystanderwrites) on Tumblr.  
> 


	3. Chapter 3

“Isn’t he gorgeous? It’ll be impossible to concentrate when he’s in the gym. And he’s just so focused, you know? My God, those eyes are incredible,” Emily bumbled without a breath as she skipped a few steps ahead of you and her parents, the spring still unstoppable in her step after her big night – you thought maybe she had found the wrong thing to focus on but you couldn’t get a word in edgewise to state that. “As soon as I get back to the hotel, I am going to have to YouTube his Gold again.”

You could barely comprehend the entire ramble and took a breath, pushing your hands deep in your jacket pockets as you meandered back a little, still a little shook up about your own evening. “I’m sure he’ll be a great coach for you,” you hoped drily, tightening your scarf around your neck in the chill night air as your dad and step-mum fell back a few steps. You needed the air anyway as you still hadn’t quite recovered from seeing Lance again after all these years. It was troubling how seeing him had affected you so.

Sure, it was just a fling back them, but the memories of how Lance Tucker turned your life upside down roared through your brain like a freight train, leaving you more than a little distracted as Emily continued to celebrate, entering the hotel entrance. A few of the competitors were staying in the same hotel, still in their team colours as your entered the lobby. An ominous sign.

“Tuck always seemed to be a great encouragement to you, sweetheart,” your father spoke up as you meandered into the lobby, happy this is where you’d leave them to head back to your own apartment. Panic struck at his words, Emily giving you an incredulous look.

“Tuck?” Emily repeated. “You called him, Tuck, Daddy.”

“Well, sure, we met him a few times,” your father explained.

 _Stop talking_ , you begged silently. Emily did not need to hear this now.

“Coach Tucker worked with you?” she asked, eyebrow rising in piqued interest.

“Lance was on your sister’s college team. Well, the men’s team,” your dad continued, wrapping a gentle arm around your step-mother’s shoulders. “I thought he had quite the little crush on your sister for a time there,” he chuckled softly, giving you a playful nudge. “How funny is that? We could have had a champion Gold medallist in the family,” he joshed as Emily chewed her lip in contemplation – she had seen the behaviour between the two of you and didn’t entirely believe all your dad was spewing. “We still will,” your father gave Emily a proud grin.

“Yeah, of course we will,” you gave your sister a little excitement, nodding your head back towards the door. “But I’m gonna hit the road, gotta catch up on some work stuff before bed then a big day tomorrow,” you apologised simply. You figured your quota of family time was well and truly over as your spied your watch. It was only early, but there was a glass of wine in a bubble bath that had your name on it so you could drown in memories of the past on your own terms.

“Sure thing, sweetheart,” your dad said, pulling you in for a hug. “It was great seeing you, let’s not leave it so long next time, huh?”

“Absolutely,” you agreed, knowing it would be months before you’d have to see them again. As you hugged your step-mother, Emily anxiously waited her turn, bouncing into your arms for a warm hug.

“Thank you so much for coming, it made such a difference having you in the stands,” Emily whispered as you nodded. “I know everyone is hiding something from me, but I know you’ll tell me in your own time.”

“I’ll tell you in time, kiddo,” you managed as she pulled back with a bright, hopeful grin. “Bye, you guys,” you said, adjusting your handbag over your shoulders and made a slow exit.

“Stay in touch, dear,” your step-mother called after you as you gave a forced smile back over your shoulder.

You needed a quick nightcap before making your way back to your apartment. A stiff drink and immediately, as you waited for your family to enter the elevator and you headed directly to the hotel bar.

Taking a seat at a table in the back and a quick look at the cocktail list, the waitress grinned and asked what you were after. “I’d kill for a good Clover Club, thanks,” you gave your order, the waitress giving you a simple smile and made yourself busy reluctantly opening the work email app on your phone and gazing at the day's emails. You had only recently figured you weren’t very good with taking any kind of leave, you wanted to make it big and the industry was far too competitive to lose a day.

“Surprised to see you here, sweetheart.”

 _Fuck me gently with a chainsaw_ , you thought to yourself, pinching the bridge of your nose and raising an eyebrow, pained. You had this coming, you told yourself as you lifted your chin in Lance’s direction as he stood beside the table, not yet seated but his body language giving you the impression that was precisely his next move. “Tucker,” you replied, noting he’d changed into well-fitting low jeans (his hips proudly sponsored by a sneak peak of Calvin Klein underwear), a striped t-shirt and sneakers.

“This seat taken?” he nodded to the free one across from you.

You didn’t reply as he took the seat, just as you suspected he would. You should have known better to come down here, you could have gone straight home and missed this whole disaster waiting to happen and enjoy a glass of wine in the tub, but no, you had to poke at fate. And there was the cause of that pent up frustration, gazing at you, entertained. He already knew he was under your skin, no doubt his plan all along.

“Clover Club, ma’am,” the waitress left a cocktail napkin on the table and carefully sat the pink drink on it.

“Right,” you muttered. “Thanks.”

“Can I take an order from you, sir?” she asked, giving Lance a well-deserving once over that he returned in kind.

“ _Patron_ ,” he told the waitress. “For both of us.”

“Coming right up,” the waitress made herself scarce, chewing her pen thoughtfully.

“I’m not drinking tequila with you, Lance,” you scoffed at his juvenile ploy to take a shot with him. “Jesus, it’s like we’re 18 all over again,” you sipped your drink, sitting back in your seat.

Lance smirked. “If I recall – and fuck, how I recall – this was the easiest way to get you to open those beautiful legs for me,” he reminded you. “Or bend you over the end of the table, get you to suck me off – ”

“Funny how all that I always needed to be plied with alcohol to do that,” you rolled your eyes. If you thought back, it was mostly to ease your nerves. Lance always made you feel like he could do better and you had to fight to remind him every day that wasn’t the case. He was a master manipulator from way back. Taking liquid courage into your hands, you knew you did a lot of things with Lance Tucker most other 18 year olds may not have, your brain flooding with the thought of his body working you into positions your coaches had never even dreamed of.

The shots appeared and he raised his glass to you as you disregarded the other one he slid before you. Shrugging, he threw the shot down and when he realised you weren’t going to take yours, did the same again.

“You’re still as pathetic now as you were then,” you couldn’t resist scoffing. “Lance, don’t you think this little act is getting a little, I dunno… old?”

“What act?” he feigned surprise as he ordered another round. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned on the table, licking away the remaining of the spirit on his full lips, toying with the lime between his fingers and tongue.

“You’re 30, you need to get your shit together. What was that I heard about you messing around with that Maggie Townsend kid? She kinda of disappeared off the face of the earth after you snatched her from under Hope’s nose,” you snorted, sipping your cocktail. You lowballed him early and the self-satisfaction it brought surprised you more than you expected.

“She gets by,” Lance replied shortly. You realised quickly you’d found an open wound and brightened a little. If there was one thing Lance was awful at, it was hiding his emotions, especially anger and annoyance. He turned his attention to his phone after the ping of an incoming message. Smirking, he responded to the text before pocketing his phone again.

“God, I dread to think of who you’re corrupting now,” you rolled your eyes, spying your nearly half empty glass. Jesus, where did that go? You reconciled that there wasn’t that much to begin with…

“I’m sure you’d love to know,” he muttered, reaching across the table and wiping away some foam from the cocktail that had been left on you top lip, before he shoved his thumb in your mouth, making you unwillingly savour it. You tried to feign repulsiveness, but if anything, reminded you how good he was with his hands. “So, gotta say, surprised to see you at the meet today. Your Emily is good, probably better than you were.”

“She is better than me. And before I forget to warn you later, if I hear one fucking word about you looking at her wrong, I’ll cut your dick off myself,” you scowled at him as one side of his mouth quirked into a honoured smile, hardly threatened.

“I don’t fuck gymnasts anymore.”

“You going for sainthood, Tucker?” you finished your drink as the next round appeared. This time, Lance put one before you and took his shot. He didn’t need to coax you into yours as you sighed and gave in with zero effort on his behalf.

He handed you a piece of lime. “Lot of things have changed since we were stupid kids,” he said, thumbing the last of the spirit from his glass, thumbing it into his mouth. He truly hated seeing alcohol go to waste, you realised. His fingers were as perfect as you remembered, just like his mouth and both kept your gaze.

“Sure it has,” you chuckled darkly. “Who you trying to kid here, Tucker?”

He shrugged as his phone sounded again. Retrieving it from his pocket, he continued, “My ex,” he explained, before turning to his phone as you rolled your eyes, not at all interested (or at least pretending not to be). A small grin moved to his handsome features and he chuckled, before texting something back and pocketing his phone again.

“I didn’t ask,” you reminded him.

He cocked his head to this side. “No, you didn’t,” his slender index finger pointing at you. “But you wanted to.”

Somehow after a few uncomfortable silences, an easy conversation had developed between you. Mostly about gymnastics. You figured it was about the only thing you’d ever have in common with each other, every little while Lance texting who you rightfully assumed was his booty call. He managed to ask you about what you did with yourself these days and appeared impressed in all the right places, admitting he wasn’t surprised you ended up in a career where used your brain.

Both of you were well liquored when you burst into giggles a few hours later. “Hey, you have to tell me what happened with that Maggie Townsend girl. There was rumours you were bangin’ her for a while there,” you said before you could stop yourself in your well-oiled state. “God, Lance, how old was she? 12?”

“20,” he admitted quietly, dropping his eyes. “She’s a good girl. Been through a lot.”

“Sure she has,” you rolled your eyes.

“She’s been texting tonight.”

“She’s your booty call?” you frowned.

“Booty call?” Lance laughed. “No, nothing like that. She’s my ex, we text.”

“Sext,” you corrected.

“Text,” he muttered. “Look, you think you know – ” he started.

“I know the story,” you cut him off a little tersely. “I don’t want to get in the middle of you and whatever is going on with Maggie,” you started collecting your handbag and jacket, seeing your queue to leave as Lance squinted, watching you pack up. “So, I guess this is where I leave you.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” you said quietly. “I was wrong to think we could even have a drink together as mature adults or whatever. You’re clearly still hung up on her since you can hardly put your phone away, and that’s fine,” you admitted quickly, shrugging your jacket over your shoulders.

He broke into a wide grin, chewing his lower lip. “What do you think we’re texting each other about?” he picked up his whiskey glass and took a sip, his eyes clearly tickled and not leaving you. “Take your seat, sweetheart,” he nudged his head back to the empty barstool and continued with his smarmy smile, taking another sip.

“I don’t know. What time you’re gonna ditch me and what time you’ll be throwing her up against the wall and fuck her like you used to do to me?” you suggested.

He gave a thoroughly arrogant grin. “That is a nice memory, fuck, the positions I could put your gorgeous body into. I still haven’t been with anyone as eager to please me,” he confided as you blushed terribly, his words affecting you more in your state and leaving a fluttering in your core. He put his tumbler down and gently took your hand, the pads of his fingers tightening around your wrist. “No, our relationship, me and Maggie’s, isn’t like that,” he dropped his eyes, his voice a little lower in the quietening bar. “Not at all, actually.”

“Then if you want me to stay, you gotta explain it to me. Because a cocky ex-gold medallist with a penchant for screwing those he coaches really isn’t up my alley anymore,” you spat as he inhaled and nodded, realising you knew more than you had let on but you wanted to hear it from his mouth.

“I admit, sounds kind of brutal from your pretty mouth,” he told you, raising his gaze again. “Okay, look, I thought maybe you’d know. Maybe you don’t so that’s okay too,” he let go of you and reached for his phone, unlocked it and pulled up a photo of a little girl, barely a toddler, grinning widely as she chewed on a gold medal. “This is our daughter, Charlotte, using Maggie’s gold as a chew toy. She’s teething right now. We don’t actually condone a baby putting a gold medal in her mouth, but it was cute, Maggie took to photo and sent it through.”

“Hold on… You have a baby?” you could barely get the words out, that wasn’t part of the story you knew. It seemed impossible, Lance Tucker: father?! Where was the waitress with the bill?

_Where was the waitress with the next round?!_

You head was spinning.

“Condom broke. Trust me, I wasn’t out there barebacking Maggie. We were a thing for a small time. If it makes you feel any better, I was only forgiven for ruining Maggie’s life because she’s so in love with Charlotte,” he added lowly.

“You were never very good with keeping your dick in your pants,” you told him as he nodded solemnly.

“Still not great at it, but I’m trying to do the best I can to give Lottie the best I can. Be the best father I can be, given the circumstances.”

_Lottie?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Interested Bystander writes](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/interestedbystanderwrites) on Tumblr.  
> 


	4. Chapter 4

A few hours later, the drinks continued flowing in midst of easy conversation and maybe the occasional flirt between yourself and Lance, you’d never admit it aloud but neither of you had lost that little spark.

But you were a mess. You knew you were an absolute mess. You had somehow managed to keep up with Lance though he was holding his drinks a hell of a lot better than you were at this point. “It might be time to try and get you a cab home, sweetheart,” Lance told you.

“I don’t need a cab,” you told him, nodding your head towards the rest rooms. “I’m just gonna hit the ladies then walk home. I don’t live far from here,” you said, pushing yourself away from the table and teetering away carefully as Lance watched you walk away with an amused smirk, rolling the ice in his tumbler.

It wasn’t lost on him just how intoxicated you were. He knew there was no way he was going to let you walk (and you wouldn’t let him walk you back either), but didn’t trust you in a cab either, his guilt taking over as he watched you meander back a few minutes later, attempting to look as sober as you could though it failed miserably. You fell back into the chair and sloppily put your chin in your hand. “Well, Tucker, I’m outta here. Thank you for a very confusing night.”

“Wasn’t supposed to be confusing, maybe a little arousing,” he answered smartly, the joke lost on you as you rolled your eyes at him. “Look, I don’t know if you’re well enough to walk home and I don’t know if you should be in a cab either, so don’t take this the wrong way, but I think you should come upstairs with me.”

You cackled, swaying back in your chair as you attempted to conceal your giggles behind your hand. There it was, the attempted clincher. “Oh, Lance. There is no way on God’s green earth that I am going to your hotel room with you. Drunk, sober or otherwise.”

Lance sighed. “Even if my intentions are pure?”

You could not contain your wide grin as you reached across the table to roughly punch his dimpled chin. “Your intentions are never pure, Tucker. Is pure even in your vocabulary?”

He shrugged. “No. And I’m not offended by that,” he admitted, loosening your grip on his face. “But I would still prefer if you just came upstairs for a few hours to you sleep off some of the booze and then hit the road. No funny business, I swear.”

“You know what you can do? You can help me get a cab outside and then we never have to see each other again,” you suggested thoughtfully.

Lance shrugged, nonplussed. “Okay, if you insist,” he replied, taking your handbag and your elbow, helping you to your feet. You snatched your arm away gently as he shook his head, almost impressed by your well-preserved puss. Still carrying your handbag, he lead you into the cool night, the night chill hitting you like a tonne of bricks as he stepped out onto the road and kept an eye out for a cab. With none forthcoming, he cringed at the sound of the vicious growl from behind him – it belonged to you and the collection of the night’s drinks now on display on the sidewalk. “Fan- _fucking_ -tastic.”

* * *

Waking up a few hours later, the room was spinning as you tried to sit up, but the weight of the hammering in your head pushed your head back towards the soft pillows. “Jesus,” you moaned as you tucked yourself into a ball under the covers.

“There’s water and painkillers on the bedside table.”

You managed to crack one eye open as you spotted Lance on the couch. “Jesusss,” you said again, this time lengthy and exasperated. “What am I doing here?”

“Well, after your sidewalk calisthenics downstairs, you weren’t really trustworthy enough to put in a cab…” he explained as you pushed the blankets off to reveal you were still very much dressed (minus your boots) and relief washed over you momentarily. “Don’t worry, I managed to ensure you didn’t hit your head on the pavement and got you back up here as gentlemanly as I possibly could have,” he snickered.

You groaned, making a definite attempt to sit up this time. The bedside light was all that illuminated the room as Lance turned off the TV and made his way to the bed, taking a seat on the edge as he handed you the pills. “You’re a true American hero, Tucker.”

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, you’re welcome too, sweetheart. Take the painkillers, drink the water,” he snapped the order to you.

“What time is it?” you asked, fumbling with the pills as he handed you the cool water bottle in your hands before managing to down both and sculling the rest of the bottle effortlessly.

He checked his iWatch. “Little after four,” he told you a little softer.

“Fuck, I have to get home. I have to be up in a few hours for work,” you tried to push yourself from the bed, but the weight of your burgeoning hangover glued you to the crisp white hotel sheets, they were completely luxurious. Lance put a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“You don’t have to go anywhere. Go back to sleep and hopefully you’ll feel a bit better after a bit more sleep,” he told you, gently edging you back towards the soft pillows, pulling the covers up to your chin.

“Lance… I really can’t stay,” you murmured, the exhaustion evident in your voice. “I’m on a deadline – and apparently on a deadline with what could be the worst hangover of my life.”

He sighed and shook his head, flicking the bedside light off and the room was quiet again until you felt the bed dip on the other side. “Shut up and go to sleep. I’ve set an alarm for you for 7am. Try and be quiet as you see yourself out. I’ve got a bunch of teenagers who just made the National team at 9am,” the bed bounced gently as you imagined he rolled over to get some shut eye himself. “Including Emily.”

You knew you should be panicking, it was Emily’s first day of training camp but all you could really think was… you were again in a bed with Lance Tucker. No good would ever come of this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Interested Bystander writes](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/interestedbystanderwrites) on Tumblr.  
> 


	5. Chapter 5

You woke up a little before the alarm Lance had set and admittedly, felt slightly better after the earlier painkillers and a few more hours sleep. Lance was sleeping soundly on his side beside you, his muscular back to you as you pushed the blankets away and crept to the bathroom to relieve yourself and zealously brush your teeth with a spare hotel toothbrush.

It had been a wild night, you noticed, raking your fingers through your hair and whipping it into a messy bun, attempting to pull yourself together for the quick walk home to organise yourself for your day. You were already dreading every minute of what awaited you as soon as you walked out the hotel room door.

Finding your boots, jacket and handbag, you gathered everything quietly in the hopes of making a silent escape. Last thing you both wanted was to wake Lance. You shrugged yourself into your jacket as you heard the sheets rustle and cringed as Lance sat up, just enough early morning light in the room for you to see him cast his scrutinizing gaze over you.

“You heading out?” he asked, voice raspy from sleep, just like you remembered it. The way you would wake up early and sneak back to your dorm room to avoid retribution. So many close shaves when Lance could lure you back to bed, he was a big fan of morning sex. He was different in the morning. Slow, gentle, at times you were able to confuse fucking with making love. He’d whisper all those tender words to make you keen for him.

“Yeah, I have to get home, shower and organise myself for the day,” you replied in part whisper, putting your handbag over your shoulder. “Thanks for last night, huh?”

“I didn’t do anything,” he admitted, yawning. “Though I kind of feel bad you got as drunk as you did.”

“Don’t,” you scoffed. “I’m sure it was your plan all along.”

He turned his body to sit on the edge of the bed, rubbing his eyes and yawning again before getting to his feet, clad only in his boxer briefs. “Yup, my plan was to lure my college ex back here and see if she was as fuckable as I remembered,” he muttered to himself as you allowed your eyes to travel his still so impressive form and there it was, as he raised his arms in the air to stretch… that stupid, fucking Gold medal tattoo, the rumours were unfortunately true. And while it distracted you, Lance was suddenly before you. “Are you sure you’re okay to get home?”

You nodded, eyes meeting his. “I’ll be fine.”

He picked up the hotel’s notepad on the bedside table, jotting something down. “This is my number, just text me or whatever when you get back that you got there safe, okay?” he pressed the paper into your palm, his hand holding yours just a fraction too long as he sighed. “You’re still completely stunning.”

You blushed dreadfully. “And I’m outta here,” you tried for the door as Lance kept his grasp on you, pulling your body back flush against his. It felt as good as you remembered. Credit where credit was due, Lance hadn’t competed professionally for years, but his body was still that of the Gods. Almost seemed a little unfair. Sure, you’d aged okay, maybe even well, you supposed, but nothing like the perfection of the man in front of you.

One hand still holding yours, Lance thumbed at your chin with his free hand. “I treated you so badly,” he said lowly. “You deserved so much better.”

“I don’t need any apologies,” you said, his thumb tracing your jaw, his touch still as calloused as ever. You could feel he still did many hours in the gym. “What do you want from me, Lance?” you had to ask, stuck under his stony gaze, feet glued to the floor and unable to move away even if you wanted to.

“Guess I’m feeling nostalgic,” he admitted with a casual shrug. “All I can think about is putting my mouth on you and making you scream. I remember the first time I made you come,” his voice dropping as he nuzzled against your ear as his hands moved to hold your waist – he was pre-empting every move you were about to make. You were glad he caught you before your knees went from under you. “You were so nervous as I made you step out of your panties and I got to my knees,” he continued as he took your handbag from your shoulders and dropped it beside him, your jacket and scarf joining the bag on the floor. Just like he reminisced, he dropped to his knees as he undid the button on your jeans and pushed his hands under the flimsy material, his pinkies catching your panties and dropping everything to the floor, forcing you to step out of them as his hands ran up and down your thighs gently.

“Oh, fuck,” you muttered, covering your mouth in shock, realising there was no way you could stop what was about to happen even if you wanted to. It had been so long since someone with the skill of Lance Tucker had turned you inside out with his long tongue and wet mouth. You jolted as Lance blew against your sex, you were almost humiliated at how wet you were and he had a front row seat. He backed you against the wall, still on his knees, his big hands gripping your waist as he took your knee in his palm and guided it steadily over his shoulder.

“I want you to come as hard as you did that first time. Let go and enjoy every touch… every sensation,” he kissed your inner thigh, tongue kisses sneaking their way towards your core and you were confused momentarily, so used to his bare face between your legs when you were younger, not the rugged scratch of his stubble now. He nestled the soft skin on your pussy, impressed with the care and consideration you put into your body, a thick stripe from back to front with his strong tongue making your body writhe as you dug your fingers into his crazy morning curls before he focused his attentions on your clit, slippery sounds as he ate away to his heart’s content.

“That feels incredible,” you hated saying before you could stop yourself, your eyes threatening to close in pleasure but you kept them open, watching him devour you. His dark eyes flicked up to meet yours, screaming no mercy would be given that morning. You watched as his hand traced up your hip and dragged across your skin to push into your heat.

“Wanna feel you come,” he pulled away momentarily to remind you.

“Wanna come for you,” you told him, as you started to squirm against his fingers and mouth, your stifled moans no longer contained as Lance greedily continued his ruthless assault on your body. You could not fathom the pleasure he was putting on your body as your legs started to shake, not as strong as they used to be as your pussy clenched around his skilled fingers, shocks that were leading up to what you hoped was a mind-blowing orgasm.

His mouth suddenly ripped away as you groaned this time in displeasure as he forcefully moved you by the hips to the bed, carelessly tossing you back as you fell among the pillows and his body was over yours.

You had been so close.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” you told him panicked as his lips and tongue left wet kisses across your jaw.

“You want me to fuck you,” he told you simply, just like you were hypnotised and you nodded, breathlessly. “Take off your shirt,” he said as he sat back and palmed his hard on. You licked your lips, so fucking conflicted that you could possibly end up back here after all these years, but your hands worked independently as you whipped off your shirt and he licked his lips, burying his face in your breasts, lightly chewing against the soft skin, tugging down the cups on your bra as his tongue lapped your nipples, his hand massaging the other, rolling your nipple under his warm fingers before trading sides.

“Lance…” you tried as he refused to cease his head-spinning actions, using his free hand to snake down your body, his palm rubbing against your clit. “Lance,” you attempted again, a little sterner and demanding.

“Tell me you don’t want this and I will stop right now,” he breathed hot and heavy across your flushed skin. “Just say the words to me,” he dared, his face moved to yours, a serious look of reflection flicking over his handsome features. “And it will be like we never saw each other again.”

You body screamed for him. You were desperate to see the rest of the ridiculous tattoo but your head – your stupid, fucking head! Even at its foggiest, it still told you to run. Get out before you did something you truly regretted. You sat up, pushing him to arms length as he panted, badly hiding his disappointment as you forced space between the two of you.

“Okay,” he nodded, strangely understanding. 10 years ago, young Lance Tucker probably wouldn’t have been as forgiving.

The state of the undress you both found yourselves in put you both in compromising positions as you continued to push and he was finally on his back, the confusion sweeping his features and creasing at his forehead. You pressed softly at the lines, mystifying him further.

Recognition started to clear in his stony eyes as he watched your hands descend down his body, stopping at the elastic of his straining boxer briefs. He gently lifted his hips and you removed the offending garment from him and tossed them over your shoulder. “Jesus,” he muttered as you reached behind you to rid yourself of your bra and dropped it away from you.

You latched onto the cross that hung around his neck, dragging his face closer to yours, the irony of the moment and the man not remotely lost on you. “This is all this will ever come to, you hear me?” you said, making yourself comfortable between his legs, you hand circling around his length, drifting up and down slowly as his head fell back against the end of the bed. “We don’t text, we don’t call. If I see you at Emily’s meets, you stay the fuck away from me.”

“Put your mouth on me,” was all he could reply. “You were always so good at taking me deep.”

You figured he agreed to your terms as his wish was your command, leaving a slick kiss across his head and not hesitating to take him deep quickly, what you couldn’t take in, you used your warm hand and massaged.

“Fuck, this is better than I remember,” he struggled through his moans, as his hands whipped through his hair, frustrated. His body taut, muscles rippling, you gave him a wink as he cried out, abs clenching within your grasp as you freed a hand to run your nails down his belly, leaving a series of claw marks you hoped he’d be able to see for a few days to come. You pulled back and swirled you tongue around the head again as he attempted to sit up. You raised an eyebrow, not ceasing your actions. “Condom,” he explained, gently holding you by the jaw and prying you away from his sensitive dick, sliding off the bed, moving to the side to reach into his travel bag. He shuddered as you cheekily took the opportunity to kiss down his spine, his back contorting in pleasure. He gave you a smirk over his strong shoulder and pulled out the strand, tossing it on the bedside table before rolling back to you. He held you face and kissed you gently, unexpected. You pulled back, shaking your head.

“No, no sweet stuff. Wrap it up and fuck me,” you demanded quietly, taking a condom packet and tearing into it carefully before rolling it on him, he gave a soft hiss, appreciating your handiwork. “Fuck me hard and deep,” you instructed. There was no room for error, you told him as he eased back on the mattress and you straddled him, guiding his cock into you, the stretch welcome. It had been too long, you realised.

It started soft as your hips moved together, Lance’s hands holding your hips as you moved above him, trying to find the rhythm that suited you both. He looked up at you, eyes dark and lip trapped within his perfect teeth. “Jesus, look at you up there,” he licked his lips. “You fucking goddess, Jesus Christ.”

You took his hands, dragging them up to clutch your breasts, his long fingers immediately going to work, kneading and toying with your nipples, each time he teased them, your walls fluttering around him with a gentle pinch. Unprepared, Lance suddenly flipped you, letting you fall to your yummy before dragging you up on your knees and he was behind you, putting you on all fours. Lining you up against him, his quadriceps snapped into your hamstrings, a generous slap greeting you across your ass and making you shriek in pain and surprisingly, pleasure shortly. You enjoyed it more than you thought you would as he did it a couple of times over as he continued to slam into you.

“Fuck, Lance,” you muttered as you felt his fingers snake around your side between your legs to torment your clit. “Oh, my God,” you whined as he used your wetness against you and twirled his magical fingers around to his hearts content. He groaned as your walls started to tighten, his thrusts becoming ragged as he felt you get closer to the edge. He pulled you to your knees and you wrapped an arm around the back of his neck, shooing his fingers away, wanting to come from your own hand so he could just fuck, watch and enjoy.

“Let go, baby. Fucking let go,” he begged, using his arms around your waist to keep you upright. “You’re so tight, I know your close,” he continued and his words pushed you over the edge, his voice and breath so close to your ear, making you shake with pleasure as Lance hissed and his hips crashed harshly behind you.

“Fuck,” you whined as he grabbed your breasts and continued to play with them as you came in waves, his lips and tongue smoothing across your neck, wanting you to feel everything. “Oh, my God,” you panted as he gently lowered you to your belly again, caressing your back before his hips relentlessly pounded into you again, gearing up himself.

“I’m comin’, baby,” he announced with a growl as he fucked you hard and gaining speed, raising your arms above your head to elongate your body, your core sensitive as you cried out with him. “Fuck, fuck yes!” Lance exclaimed, his body collapsing onto yours as he himself came down from his high. He surprisingly kissed across your neck and shoulders, your body still twitching in pleasure at his simple caress. “You’re still incredible,” he muttered in your ear, roughly chewing on the lobe as he let go of your hands and used his palms to massage your arms.

“You’re still pretty good at that,” you admitted, your blissed grin well hidden as he was behind you. He hummed as you felt him pull out, making his way to the bathroom, closing the door after him. You put your head in your hands, unsure if you’d be able to get up, let alone make the move to leave. You spied the bedside clock and cursed, regretfully sitting up and moving to your knees as Lance reappeared. “I have to go,” you told him softly as he pulled a bottle of water from the minibar and tossed it to you, before making his way back to the bed, getting comfy on the pillows.

“I know.”

“And I have to try and avoid my family on the way out,” you realised, horror overcoming you. The last thing you needed was to see your dad or sister on their way to breakfast or something. Lance gave you a sinister, yet not unexpected grin.

“See what happens when you come back to a strange man’s bedroom?”

You sighed, getting off the bed and began to collect your clothes from around the room, covering yourself as the brash feeling of self-consciousness started to wash over you, covering the places Lance had just enjoyed intimately before moving to the bathroom, awkwardly. You looked at yourself in the mirror, you thought you looked better prior to fucking Lance, you realised as you re-did your bun and shook your head at yesterday’s smeared eyeliner. “Atrocious.”

You made the best of the shitty situation and dressed again, pulling on your boots and spying your watch. You were already late, but you had to get home, shower off the sex, Lance’s scent on your skin and yesterday’s make up. You felt rancid, sex working against you and not curing your ills from the hangover. Jesus, calling in sick would be easier. You could work from home. You’d work from home and make up for the consecutive days away from the office tomorrow.

You shook your head and opened the bathroom door, Lance under the sheet, sipping his water. He didn’t look up as he watched ESPN. “We should do this again while I’m in town,” he said, keeping his gaze on the TV, a humoured smirk on his features as if he already knew your answer. “Here until the weekend.”

“Yeah, that’s not going to happen,” you said, slipping your bag over your shoulder. “So, bye,” you opened the hotel room as he sighed.

“You don’t have to act like this, you know. It’s just sex, baby,” he said as you attempted a swift exit. You paused and looked back at him as he finally met your eyes. “I promise, life will still go on if you just accept it and want to have some fun.”

You shook your head and left. The self-loathing kicked in before you made it to the elevator. Somehow, you made the hotel Walk of Shame without meeting a family member or some old gym acquaintance. The city was well and truly awake as you made your way downtown to your apartment and called in sick as soon as you got there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Interested Bystander writes](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/interestedbystanderwrites) on Tumblr.  
> 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I used gif's and pix on Tumblr but won't be here.

**Ding!**

You frowned as you looked at your phone later that night, hearing the message come in. The number you didn’t recognise, the tone of the text you did immediately.

It was 10pm, of course you were still awake. At this point you dreaded attempting sleep as your brain hadn’t shut down since you left Lance’s hotel room that morning. The thought of your subconscious taking you back to that morning and other previous exploits with Lance wrecked you.

You rubbed your tired face, pausing the junky reality TV you were staring blankly at, but not taking in. You’d had a terribly dysfunctional day, getting through as much work as your hangover would allow and the rest of the time, cursing yourself for letting anything happen with Lance. The remorse was overwhelming, even if you were kind of enjoying the tender sting between your legs.

…you pretended that the flashbacks of his body over yours didn’t take up most of your day, but it had and you couldn’t deny that the way you started your day wasn’t one of the better ones in recent times. The conflict in your brain was catastrophic.

He was right though, you had conceded. It was _just_ sex. And you were well and truly over Lance, you knew this, your relationship ended years ago. You’d had a few partners since university that treated you better in a multitude of ways. All except the fucking part. The fucking part would keep Lance Tucker at the top of your bang list for a while to come. Especially if that morning’s fun and frivolity was anything to by.

You stared at the text and debated whether to answer. Playing coy crossed your mind, contemplating a response as simple as ‘ _Who dis?_ ’ It hit you that he wrote down his number and you’d put it in your handbag. Grabbing it, it was easy to verify that yes, Lance Tucker now had your number and had texted you.

 _Shit_.

You then saved his number to your phone before your brain could force your fingers to not do so.

You groaned, debating to block his number right away. Credit where credit is due, he didn’t beat around the bush.

_Lance: Your sister gave me your number btw, no questions asked._

You’d kill Emily, it wasn’t her business to have done so. But if you killed her, she’ll at least ask why first. You sighed and began replying.

_You: Emily knows we have some sort of history but not exactly what it is. Please be professional and treat her strictly like you’re her coach._

_Lance: Hey, hey, hey! What kind of guy do you take me for?_

_You: …are you fucking serious, Tucker?_

You almost died of first, second and third hand embarrassment for him as his response came back – he sent a gif of _himself_ , laughing snidely on the sidelines to convey his response. Well, at least his ego was at its usual exponential heights. You rolled your eyes and hid your bubble of laughter behind your hand. Fuck him for attempting to make you laugh.

_Lance: Relax. I won’t tell your sister anything. And I’ve got a reputation to protect around here in my coaching role. Don’t worry… I won’t tell Emily anything. And I would prefer if you didn’t either. I’m lucky I still have this job after the whole thing with Maggie._

You didn’t disagree with his sentiment.

_You: Yeah, there’s that._

_You: Please don’t send me gifs of yourself anymore. I’m mortified for you._

Suddenly there was an influx of Lance pacing while in the gym, Lance in concentration, Lance being his usual d-bag self and wiggling his ass on camera (you realised it was from his IG. Yes, you followed him. You were one of thousands that did. You were still interested in his career… and his ass. It was spectacular. He didn’t follow you). Who the fuck was making these gifs of Lance fucking Tucker? Seriously.

_Lance: I don’t want things to be awkward. I just wanted to make sure you are safe and well. Honest to God._

_Lance: I have a gif of me without a shirt on the rings at training if you want me to send it? I get a lot of compliments on that one._

Jesus, he was so full of himself, you bit back the bubble of laughter that threatened. You knew he knew he didn’t believe a word he was saying though. You turned off the TV and went to the bedroom, stripping off your sweats and climbing into the cool, clean sheets, they felt incredible against your flushed skin.

_You: …gross._

_Lance: :)_

_Lance: Emily was good today, she will need to fail horribly not to make the Olympic team._

_Lance: She’s got a little bit of you in her, that tenacity, the fire for competition._

_Lance: It’s great to watch._

For a second, you felt proud. Lance complimenting your sister was… genuine (at best), you hoped.

_You: I think you’ll be a great coach for her._

_Lance: I hope so. She’s the goods, kid. She’ll go far._

_You: I’m glad you think so._

_Lance: It’s late, I’ll leave you to it. I’m in town until day after next. Wanna maybe catch up tomorrow night?_

Ew, did he just ask you out? No, he didn’t date; he fucked unmercifully. 

_You: Not so sure that’s a good idea, Lance._

_Lance: Can’t blame a guy for trying._

_You: Probably not._

_Lance: Night, gorgeous. Dream of me xoxo_

You sighed, rolling your eyes. “He’s such a dick.”

_You: Fuck off, Tucker._

* * *

Lance’s previous night’s text taunted your next work day, in between and during meetings, at lunch with co-workers and in the train while travelling home. You had toyed with a few messages to him, all of which seemed ridiculous, asking how his day was, how Emily had been at training. Anything to rouse his attention. You could smell the distinct scent of desperation pour off you.

 _I’m coming home in a few week’s for Dad’s birthday_ , was all you sent before you could stop yourself. You figured you might as well get to the point. Lance wasn’t an idiot, he’d know exactly what you were telling him in those few short words. A few hours later, you weren’t at all surprised by the response.

An address and a time for you to be at it.

A little while later, he added:

_Lance: I’ll make it all worthwhile coming back to this shithole. Over and over and over. Think about all the ways I can make you come and try not to touch yourself because of it until I see you. My mouth, my fingers, my cock. All waiting just for you, baby. I hope you’re wet but resist touching yourself._

_Lance: Lemme make it worth your while._

Too late, you told yourself as you felt the shameful heat flood between your legs and promptly got off the couch to spend a little time alone thinking of that filthy mouth, those slender fingers, that generous cock and all the different ways you would be enjoying them again soon enough. 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Interested Bystander writes](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/interestedbystanderwrites) on Tumblr.  
> 


	7. Chapter 7

“Hi, come on in,” Lance welcomed you, a slight smirk forming on his full lips. A pacifier looped was on his pinky finger as he cupped your cheek and kissed your mouth in greeting, surprising you. “You look fucking fantastic,” his voice dropped and took a step back as he let you in, stony eyes blatantly trailing your body from top to toe, sucking his lower lip into his gleaming teeth. You couldn’t resist enjoying the predatory glance as you stepped in.

Some things never changed.

Following, you heard soft babbling as you walked into his home. You saw where the sound came from: the floor, on a pink sheepskin rug, playing with a squishy, fuzzy bear. _Charlotte_.

“You okay?” Lance asked quietly, noting your shock. “I probably should have mentioned – ”

“I’m okay,” you squeaked back the lie, peeling your eyes away from the tot who watched you back as just as keenly.

He took your wrist in his hand, his thumb tracing across your knuckles softly. “Let me introduce you. This is Charlotte,” Lance said, letting go and moving across the room, reaching down to hoist the toddler into his strong arms. You noted how well the muscles worked and flexed as he hitched her onto his hip, his Henley just a wee bit too tight and rising to revealed a little toned tummy. “I’ve got her this weekend. Her mom is back in the gym,” he explained as she pawed at her father’s face, giggling at the few days of stubble that adorned it.

You doubted you’d seen Lance with any more than 5 o’clock shadow (generally only witnessed when you woke up next to him when you were younger) in all the years you’d known him. It was unkempt for him and sexier than you’d liked to have admitted, his dark curls loose, wild and free of the usual overuse of gel. He actually looked relaxed. Lance had always pretended he could relax but you knew this was never the case, you’d truly never met anyone that teetered on the edge as often as Lance did and to be honest, felt a little bad for him.

Saying that, gone was the smug façade for a much softer, gentler version of him that you had never witnessed before. It was a little unnerving.

Charlotte eyed you behind long, dark lashes, snuggling into Lance’s broad chest. He was right. This was something you feel he could have mentioned prior to your arrival to give you enough time to run for the fucking hills, go back to the city. Or in the very least, cancel.

“Hi Charlotte,” you said delicately to the adorable tot as she quickly dug her forehead into Lance’s shoulder, latching her fingers onto his cross necklace – she was his doppelgänger. He gave a small chuckle, loosening her fingers and holding her hand in his large one. “She is just adorable, Lance,” you said honestly.

“Yeah, she is,” he laughed, clearly proud to be her father and twisting a short curl around his long finger, soothingly.

You just were not expecting this side of Lance. Not after the other night.

“She is the least shy little lady, this is bizarre,” he explained, brushing some of her dark wavy hair from her deep blue eyes. She was a spitting image of him, down to the dimple on his chin. “Come on, Lottie, say hi.”

A small, chubby hand crept up and waved before she shoved her face into Lance’s giggling chest. When she revealed her little face again, you were relived she was smiling shyly at you, putting on the show like many kids did around those they didn’t know.

“She’s ready for bed,” he explained. “Do you mind if I put her down and then we can…” his voice trailed off, picking up the teddy on the rug and handing it to Charlotte, who snatched it tightly in her little palms.

“Sure,” you replied as Lance forced Lottie to gently wave at you, her little eyes still on you as her father led her from the room.

You exhaled sharply, pacing a little to try and regain your composure. Okay, so maybe you weren’t aware he’d be on Daddy duty. Yes, he probably should have mentioned that. Okay, he didn’t. But really, what was this? Just sex, right? Like he said. Just two adults having a casual roll in the hay. But one was a clearly devoted parent and you were in his home, wearing some pretty flimsy lingerie under a dress you knew would drive him mad while his child would be sleeping in another room. You cringed.

This was a terrible idea. One that was starting to feel like one of your worst. Regret was starting to take over. You spied all exits in case you needed to fake a quick getaway.

…the nervousness crept back as you finally took in the room, hoping to distract yourself. You had to give Lance credit, it was a lovely decorated place, modern, white walled, even a little Scandi in it’s décor with the blue and natural hues that adorned the furniture and into the open kitchen. You were impressed and not surprised as you came across various photos of him in competition, with his proud parents and of course, his cased up Gold along with a photo of him with his palm over his heart patriotically as the American flag was raised behind him. You remembered watching it on TV and regardless of how things ended for you both, you were so proud of him. He looked so fucking good both in competition and finally, as a world champion at The Games.

Spying the bottle of wine breathing with two balloon glasses each with the vibrant red inside, you didn’t pick him for a wine drinker, either. There was a lot of things you didn’t pick Lance Tucker to be these days –

“Hi,” he said, quietly upon his return as you turned to face him. He stopped past the bench and retrieved the wine, wandering back to you and offering a glass. “This okay?”

“Yeah,” you nodded as you took it from him. “Thanks.”

“Take a seat,” he said, nodding in its direction and following. You did, giving him more than enough room as he reached for the TV remote, Mickey Mouse Clubhouse now a thing of the past. “Look, I know I should have told you Lottie was here. That was fucking shit of me. Sorry,” he forced out. “Plans changed late. I owe a lot to Maggie, she does most of the work with her mom because I’m travelling so much and when the intensive came up, she asked me to take Lottie and I couldn’t say no.”

“It’s okay,” you admitted, knowing you couldn’t be upset with his excuse. You just hoped it was truthful. “Is Charlotte asleep?”

“Yeah, she is up a little late tonight. I got through a few pages of ‘Go The Fuck to Sleep’ and she was right out,” Lance sighed.

You broke into a smile as he did the same in return. You forgot how dreamy his smile was when it wasn’t bordering on smug or predatory, just open and gentle. “You do not read that to her!” you gave a quiet laugh, not wanting to wake the little one.

“You know it?” he asked, surprised.

“ _You know it_?” you challenged.

“Okay, okay,” he raised his free hand modestly. “I remove ‘fuck’, too. For what it’s worth. God forbid once she really starts talking that it is the first real she comes out with.”

You giggled again, starting to relax a little at the light-heartedness the evening was taking - maybe the wine was helping, you couldn’t be sure (you could, of course it was the wine). “True. Is she saying anything yet?”

“Lots of stuff you can’t always make out unless she’s frustrated and pointing at what she wants. She’s saying ‘ma, ma, ma’ like it’s the only word on her tongue. I assume ‘nana’, Maggie’s mom, will be next,” he added, a little miffed.

“And you’re jealous it wasn’t ‘Lance Tucker, Olympic Gold and Silver Medallist’?” you couldn’t resist as his mouth quirked into a wide, dimpled toothy smile, chuckles bubbling from his lips as he eased back into the couch cushions. He regained his composure and pointed at you, a smooth lick of his tongue against his mouth.

“It’ll be her first sentence, I promise you.”

“Of course it will be,” you smiled, resting back into the couch like him, the wine tingling your tastebuds and continuing to loosen you up. “She’s really precious, Lance.”

“I didn’t realise how much I could love someone else, you know? I thought once or twice over the years, maybe I’d been in love. It’s just mostly lust and infatuation, I suppose,” he gave you a slight glance and you distracted yourself by sipping your wine. “But she’s the love of my life,” he shrugged easily. “I never had any plans to be anyone’s dad, yet here I am.”

“There you are,” you agreed, averting your eyes.

He gently reached out, his long fingers wrapping around your jaw and thumbed your chin delicately. “I know this is weird for you.”

You took a big gulp of wine. “I don’t think that covers it, Lance.”

“I don’t want to freak you out – if you wanna leave, I’m not going to stop you. If the situation was reversed, I’d be outta – ”

“I’m still sitting here, aren’t I?”

Lance breathed deeply, a little touched, though he’d never admit it. “Yeah. You are. And you look…” he paused a little. “Incredible. Better than I’ve ever see you. So much hotter than when we were kids.”

His proclamation stopped you in your tracks as his gaze lowered. You flushed a little, kind of surprised you could affect him like you were - like he still did to you.

“I really want to kiss you, Lance,” you told him as Lance put his glass on the coffee take and slowly scooted closer to you. You might as well get the show on with it. As much as you were enjoying the openness of Lance that evening, you weren’t here to talk kids.

“Just kiss?” he wondered, taking your jaw in his hand and thumbing your lower lip. “That’s all you’re here for?”

You shook your head boldly. “No, that’s not all I’m here for.”

“Then what are you here for, baby?” his voice dropped a little, his stony eyes taken by your lips, hand drifting down the back of your neck and massaging lightly. “You tell me.”

“You.”

His eyes met yours again with a slow nod. “I’m right here,” he then took your wine glass and placed it beside his. A slight wave of panic washed over you, your resolve fading with the glass no longer in your palms and Lance felt you seize under his touch. “You okay?”

“Should I really be here?”

He broke into the smallest smile. “Charlotte is asleep. She’ll be fine. If she makes a peep, or needs me, I’ll take care of it,” he reassured you. “Believe it or not, I’m not truly that irresponsible. But I can be enjoy sex with a beautiful woman and be a parent in conjunction with each other.”

“I know,” you admitted. “This is just a lot to take in.”

“You’re so in your head, kid,” he commented, giving his head a gentle shake. “Not necessary.”

“How are you so relaxed about this?” you asked as he took your hand and stood you up. His hands suddenly on your hips and pushing you gently from the couch towards what you assumed was his bedroom.

He shrugged. “I know that I want you. And know that I have since I saw you at the meet. It’s a no brainer for me to get you in here and have a fuckin’ good time. But only if you want to. I can tell…” his voice trailed off as he moved his mouth directly to the sensitive part on your neck that would surely make you shudder – it did.

You fingers instinctively laced into his loose curls, a satisfied smile gracing your features.

“You’re nervous. Lottie being here has thrown you. And it’s okay. There is no responsibility on your behalf. It’s just you,” he gripped your hips a little to maintain your attention, his fingers bunching the material of your dress. “And me. No one else,” he drifted a hand up your side, snaking it into your hair and giving your ponytail a playful tug. “Let’s just have some fun? You won’t enjoy yourself if you overthink this.”

You had to nod, completely enthralled with Lance. “I know.”

He was still right.

“You do?” he challenged. “Because you’re acting like this is affecting you way more than it should,” he mocked, the smugness you expected from him reappearing.

“Do you ever shut up?” you rolled your eyes, tugging at his wild, loose curls as his grin grew, caving to your touch. “All you ever fucking do it talk, talk, talk – ”

He cut you off with a laugh. “I’ll put my mouth to better use then,” he suggested, his palm wandering from your hips and gripping your ass, before hitching you into his arms to unceremoniously dump you on the well-made king bed. He whipped his shirt off as he lowered his frame over you, caging you beneath him. He didn’t hesitate to move your skirt above your belly. His dark eyes looked up at you, his strong nose and soft lips nudging the soft skin of your tummy. “You want me?”

You eased up on your forearms as his tongue looped your belly button, keeping his eyes on your face. “Yes,” you said certainly.

He hummed as his hands danced up and down your sides before looping into your favourite panties and dragged them down before depositing them in his jeans pocket. “Thought so. Now ease back and I’ll take care of the rest.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Interested Bystander writes](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/interestedbystanderwrites) on Tumblr.  
> 


	8. Chapter 8

Waking up somewhere in the middle of the night, you were disappointed to find the other side of the bed empty. Lance’s side cool, he’d been out of bed for a while. Seeing his t-shirt on the floor, you pushed yourself up and scooped it up to pull it over you, tiptoeing from the bedroom when you noticed the living room lit lowly.

You found Lance with a sleeping Charlotte across his bare chest, gently rocking her in his strong arms, clad only in his boxer briefs. He gave you a small smile. “Sorry, did I wake you?” he whispered.

You blinked slowly, taking him in. How your knees managed not to buckle at the sight staggered you – he looked glorious. All such defined muscle over soft skin in the dim light as he nursed his little girl back to sleep.

“No,” you admitted, chewing you lip. “Just woke up and you were gone,” you leaned against the doorframe for your own good. The words sounded so pathetic coming out of your mouth. Needy, even.

You also needed the distance.

This situation wasn’t supposed to move you the way it had. Lance wasn’t supposed to be making you feel anything but good. Repeatedly good. But he had gotten in there again, just like he had when he was a kid. Granted, he hadn’t patented his ego to the extent he did these days, but it was well on its way then. 

“I still like you in my shirt,” he chewed his lip thoughtfully. “A lot.”

You gave a shy smile. “Is Charlotte okay?” you asked quietly, not wanting to wake her.

“She was restless, guess her little teeth are hurting her,” he kissed Charlotte’s dark hair and rested his cheek on her head as he gently rocked her back and forth soothingly. “I didn’t want it to wake you.”

You nodded slowly, still so moved with Lance Tucker, father, opposed to Lance Tucker, shake your foundations, have you a dozen different ways then give you the best orgasms of your life, ensuring he made you come more times than you could count. “Look, I might go,” you told him simply as he gently frowned.

“I’m just about to put her back to bed,” he told you, attempting to stand. You raised you hand for him to relax. He settled back on the sofa, reluctantly chewing his lip.

“It’s okay, Lance. I get that you’re a dad. You’re a beautiful dad,” you acknowledged as his lowered his eyes, tugging Charlotte just a little bit tighter. “I think you need to focus on that.”

“I don’t want you to go,” he said. “I thought we were having fun?”

“We are definitely having fun, but I don’t want to come between you and that gorgeous little girl, Lance.”

He got to his feet that time. “Let me put her back to bed. Please? I’ll meet you back in the bedroom,” he said, stepping towards you. When he reached you, he held Charlotte tightly with one arm and cupped your cheek with his other hand, his thumb drifting across your lower lip. “Gimme just a minute,” he gently kissed your mouth, leaving a lick against you upper lip before turning back towards Charlotte’s room.

You sighed, reluctantly going back to the bed when you knew you should be dressing and making a hasty exit. Again.

Lance Tucker was just full of too many surprises.

He reappeared a few moments later, quietly closing his bedroom door after him. He stayed back, watching you sitting crossed legged on the bed, still in his shirt and pulling at the hem. Your nerves weren’t lost on him, but he wasn’t as endeared as previously. The change of the vibe in the room was pretty evident to both of you.

“I understand if you wanna go,” he told you quietly. “I wouldn’t hold it over you. It is what it is. Great fucking but… I’ve still got a kid,” he gave a gentle shrug with a slightly disenchanted smirk. He didn’t appear completely devastated, but you felt bad just the same.

“I just think you focusing on your little girl is the most beautiful thing – and I admit I am surprised. Watching you dote over her even got my ovaries fluttering and I thought it was just a barren wasteland down there,” you tugged the shirt lower over yourself.

Lance gave a small laugh at your meagre joke and crossed his arms across his chest, the tension in the room lapsing momentarily. “Look, why don’t you at least stay the night? I make you breakfast in the morning and you can forget all about me after it. No pressure.”

What kind of offer was that? You weren’t looking for a ‘morning after’ (toddler optional) and you assumed he wasn’t either. There was a kid involved and an ex-girlfriend that was the mother of said child. It was all more complicated than it ever was supposed to be.

It was only a quick lay while you were in town. Simple.

No, not quite that simple.

He made his way to the side of the bed you had stuck to and sat on the edge. “Stay,” he tucked some tousled locks behind your ear. “Your hair is all mussed up,” he said, kind of proudly.

“I should go, Lance,” you told him instead, as he leaned forward and kissed you again, disregarding you.

“Stay…” he whispered against your lips. “I promise I will make it worth your while,” he wrapped a strong, gym-calloused hand around the nape of your neck, bringing you to him. “Over. And over,” he continued between open-mouthed, wet kisses that you found yourself starting to reciprocate.

It was impossible to resist him. His kiss was rendering you useless as his hand roamed down your curves to find the hem of his t-shirt and raise it, leaving you again in nothing. He took your lips again, hungrier this time. There was possession as his tongue swept against yours, gently tracing your lips before a stinging bite, causing you to gasp in his mouth.

He didn’t lose stead as he pushed off his boxers and eased you back against the pillows, grabbing you behind the knees to wrap your legs around him and demanding your body meet his as his hips ground down against yours as his hands ascended your body to your hips, his imposing hard on pressed between your bodies.

“Tell me this isn’t a better idea than walking away…” he grunted, awfully sure he already knew what your answer was. “Tell me you would regret not getting the most out of whatever this could be.”

You pulled as his fluffy curls, pulling his face back with some force as he winced. “It’s just fucking, Tucker.”

“Bullshit it is,” he sniped, rolling you over and letting you perch yourself on top of him still sitting as he sucked and twirled his tongue around your nipple, again another bite.

“Jesus,” you moaned in more pleasure than pain. He always did know exactly what to do with that obscene tongue. His hands forced your hips into his pelvis, giving you both the friction you were desperate for. “Get in me.”

“No,” he retorted as you rolled your eyes and attempted to cut off any further talking by pushing your mouth onto his, his only too willing and excited to indulge you. While distracted and hovering over him, he took advantage, smacking your ass, the burn lingering. You keened closer into his body as the same hand groped you, a groan quaking that you couldn’t control the sound of as your back arched into him, his mouth took the other nipple and just as quickly as the tingle erupted, his gym-calloused hands smoothed over the inflamed skin.

He played your body like a dream. He knew when you wanted it rough and knew when you needed affection. But now, he thought he would give you what you really craved: your complete unravelling, all thanks to his body. You were grown and he was going to treat you like it.

“Tuck, come on, I need you now.”

“You need me? You were lookin’ for a reason to leave me a minute ago,” he repeated in a hot whisper. It almost seemed like he was mocking you with that whiny, sinister tone. It only gave you all the more reason to strap in, because Lance Tucker was about to turn you inside out. “How bad you need me, or just my dick?” he taunted.

“You, you arrogant prick.”

He pulled back abruptly. “Baby, are you in love with me – ”

“God, you make me want to slap the spit outta your mouth,” you replied, rolling your eyes as he bit back his laughter, his stony eyes revealing his mirth as he teased you both, fisting his cock into his hands and sliding it through your warm folds. His face faltered, the sensitivity of the head of his dick sweeping through your wetness driving him maybe, to the point of insanity – you’d bank that, you had to. “You want me?” you whispered, licking the shell of his ear before chewing down on the lobe. He was failing at keeping his resolve. “Find a condom.”

“I needa to feel you,” he almost pleaded.

“I know,” you told him, a little softer, smoothing a hand down his face, the stubble catching against your fingertips as his dark blue eyes fluttered closed under your touch. “But not this time.”

Grunting, he carefully pushed your body off his and went to his bedside draw, retrieving the box of condoms, leaving them beside his bedside light and his phone. It was petulant but he knew better than to keep the puss, he knew what he wanted and where he wanted to be. Refusing your one demand would see you walk out and that was the last thing he wanted.

You left open-mouthed kisses across his muscular shoulders and he took care of the situation at hand, smiling to yourself as the goose pimples struck down his spine, momentarily distracting him before rolling back to you and pushing you down so he could once again claim what should rightfully be his.

He gently nudged your knees apart and he snuck between your thighs, his groin pushing against you, desperate for friction. His face suddenly over yours, he left a small kiss on your lips as his arms barricaded around your face. “How is it possible you get more gorgeous as you get older? You’re just so beautiful,” he almost whispered, nuzzling your nose lightly before leading with his tongue for a wet, sensual kiss.

You wondered if he noticed how your skin flushed with bashfulness at his earnest words. Or what you hoped was sincere words. You felt the urge to reply with snark but managed to keep it at bay, preferring to remain silent. You weren’t here for mush. Reality set in.

“Stop,” you said finally as the adoring words continued. “Lance.”

Your voice was ignored as Lance’s lips traced down your throat, licking against the scorching skin. His teeth nipped against your décolletage and for a moment you forgot you needed him to stop.

“Stop.”

Sighing, Lance rolled his eyes and fell off you to crash into his pillows, his gaze on the roof before closing his eyes, frustrated. You crawled over him, holding his face in your palms. “Too polite?”

“It’s honestly like I don’t even know you,” you admitted.

Lance opened an eye and scoffed. “If you aren’t harder work now than you were when we were kids…” he huffed.

You shrugged casually, you were proud that you managed to keep your resolve. “I’m older, I know what I like. And what I want is hot.”

He hummed. “You might want that but I promise you, slow works too.”

“You wouldn’t know how to,” you challenged and suddenly Lance’s abs kicked into gear, forcing himself up with a lurch.

“Are you daring me to pleasure you?” he frowned but his smirk grew. “Jesus, fuck, baby. I will make you beg for it, it’ll be that slow and…” he sighed, adjusting your posture on his lap. “So fucking hot, you’ll be desperate to come.”

“I fail to see the threat,” you dared him.

He laughed loudly this time, rolling you both over so his hard body was again between your legs. His large hands massaged down your sides as his body crept back. He spread your knees shamefully wide as he caught your eyes and shook his head. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“I’m sure I’ll be fine – ” you started before squealing as he nuzzled your pubic bone, his long fingers opening you up, his dark eyes locked to yours as he salaciously licked his lips and opened wide, his mouth leaving wet kisses against your core. “Jesus Christ on a cracker,” you fell back against the pillows as Lance treated you to the best you’d ever received (and if you didn’t think his previous exploits could be beaten, you were wrong). “If there was a Gold for this, you would be winning it right now,” you said between pleasured breaths and toes that curled. Lance laughed against you darkly, his dark curls bobbing as he continued his ministrations.

“I’ll take it,” he said from between your legs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Interested Bystander writes](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/interestedbystanderwrites) on Tumblr.  
> 


	9. Chapter 9

After your night with Lance, you went back to the city, Lance went back to part-time Dad, full-time Olympic gymnastics coach. You communicated every once in a while, both deciding while he was already so busy, a long-distance thing probably wouldn’t work for either for you. Eh, if you found yourselves in the same town again?

No question. Sexually, Lance was made for you. You hoped he felt the same.

Emotionally? You were both a fucking disaster.

Bless him, it’s not like he didn’t try to attempt FaceTime sex, the occasional sext and the like. It was Lance Tucker, it would be strange if he didn’t attempt a move like that. He was rebuffed mostly. Except for last week. Last week when you gave in to him and answered his FaceTime (you had previously ignored them and called him back without the temptation). He was shirtless and from what you could tell, desperate for release. You weren’t in a dissimilar situation. You both got off a few times.

Lance snuck in your thoughts often. Emily would text about her training and it would remind you instantly about him, he’d send the occasional gag text (he loved getting a rise out of you with silly gifs and memes. You cringed and generally found yourself laughing pretty soon after) and would end up spending hours going backwards and forwards with stupid texts about your day. He’d send the odd picture of Charlotte and you’d pretend you wouldn’t be completely moved, especially if it were the two of them in it, looking cute together.

Selfies with Lance and Charlotte melted your heart. Even in a photo, you could see the utter devotion he had for her in his eyes and the warmth in his smile and in return, the adoration she had for her father.

But it was cool, you weren’t attached. You didn’t have to get over him again. But his overconfident fucking smirk in your head was a constant distraction. Like tonight. Only it wasn’t a text, it was your phone ringing and his snarky mug you’d put as his display. You sighed, preparing yourself for which personality of Lance Tucker would be down the line.

You secretly hoped for the sexy times one. You’d had a few drinks and if Lance didn’t help you through the motions, well… you had a drawer of goodies that would.

“Hello?” you answered, sounding a little huskier than you should be. You cleared your throat bashfully. “Hi, Lance.”

“Hey,” he said quietly. “You busy?”

You inhaled silently. That wasn’t the deep rumble of a phone sex voice you were expecting (correction, wanted). “No,” you admitted. “Just reading,” you said, closing your iPad and snuggling into the couch cushions.

“It’s a Friday night,” he couldn’t hid his disappointment in you for not being out on the town. You had an offer, you just had enough of the week, wanted a glass of wine, warm woollen socks and a good read.

You had to smile. “I had a few drinks after work and I’ve got a glass of wine on the table, breathing. Besides, how could I answer this call if I were at a loud bar, being hit on?”

He gave a light laugh. “That’s a good answer, baby. Did you have fun at least?”

“I guess so,” you told him. “I had a busy week – was nice to unwind a little.”

“Ah, good,” he sighed. When you weren’t replied with some kind of innuendo about drunk sex, you frowned.

“You okay? You seem a little… down.”

“Yeah, I’m okay,” he said, but it hardly sounded like he believed it. You certainly didn’t.

“What’s going on, Lance?” you asked softly.

He sighed solemnly. “Had a fight with Maggie,” he admitted.

You sighed for him. While he always put across things were good between them, and you mostly trusted his assessment, occasionally he’d let slip that Maggie and he fought occasionally. Nothing serious, he reassured you, they never wanted to put Charlotte in the middle. Maggie’s dad left when she was young and she didn’t want the same thing for their little girl, he’d explained. Lance had promised her from the beginning that she wasn’t in parenthood alone though was hard for him to understand her need to have him a solid part of Charlotte’s life.

Lance grew up as the only child of wealthy parents, went to the best private schools (his attitude wasn’t entirely brought on by gymnastics. He’d been groomed for years to maintain his holier than thou personality. It had just evolved into a beast after his Gold medal win), had a good relationship with both parents (and still did), those with family problems were foreign to him. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” he scoffed a laugh.

“Was it about Charlotte?” you dared ask.

“No. No.”

“Can I ask…” you hated to prod but it almost felt like he wanted you to.

“Maggie told me that I completely ruined her life,” he breathed and you heard him take a sip of something. “No biggie, baby. Don’t worry yourself over it - I’m not.”

Your heart fell. Sure, no biggie, you almost wanted to tell him, he was an awful liar. All his voice put across was utter devastation. “Oh, Lance,” was all you could bring yourself to say as you chewed your lip. You figured an opinion wasn’t warranted here. Whatever you had previously insinuated about their relationship meant little to him – you wanted to keep as wide a gap between yourself and Maggie as possible. “Where are you?”

“Karolyi,” he answered.

Of course you knew he was there. Emily was too. “Right,” you rolled your eyes at yourself, a wave of stupidity washing over you. “Can I ask why she said that?”

“I dunno – I was giving her my training roster. It’s super intense in the lead up to The Games so I wanted to make sure she was aware when I was free for Lottie and when I wasn’t then said I wanted to come to see you – ”

“You told her about me?” you cut in, heart falling out of your butt. There was absolutely no reason for Lance to mention you at all, your heart race increased and underarms started to sweat. “Lance, there is nothing to tell.”

But at this stage, neither of you were sure anymore. Was there more going on between you than you’d thought? Did Lance think there was? Had you missed the signs? You were suddenly panicking and took a large glug of your wine.

“Well, no,” he explained. “Just that I was spending some time in the city. I didn’t mention you specifically. I guess she assumed I must have been fucking someone if I was just heading there for no work reason.”

“Oh,” you said softly. “You were going to come and visit?”

“I was hoping to,” he answered softly. “I mean, only if you wanted to see me. I understand we kind of left things open ended, but I wouldn’t mind messing around occasionally,” he managed a small laugh.

“Messing around,” you mimicked with a small laugh of your own. “You’re fucking terrible, you know that? What makes you think I’m interested in messing around again, Tuck?”

“Baby, no one moves you like I do,” he said simply.

You felt speechless. He was a concise fucker. And sadly, he wasn’t wrong.

“And by the sounds of it, I’m right,” he continued.

You sighed, rubbing your eyes and pinching your nose to collect yourself. “I can’t let you take over my life again. Not like before, Lance.”

He hummed quietly. “I hurt you. A lot. I know. I hurt myself too with my own stupidity,” he added. “I was a complete fuckwit. You were the one thing, through all the bullshit when we were kids, who just truly wanted me for me.”

“But what did you want me for, Lance?” you asked, almost scared of his answer.

“I loved you, don’t pretend I didn’t,” his voice a little perturbed.

“Just not at the end, not when the big, wide world was waiting for you,” you felt your blood pressure start to rise. You hadn’t gone so quick to anger with him in a while, but you surprised yourself how quick it snuck back into your veins. “I always knew you’d be a champion, but Lance, the rest of your life is fucking miserable.”

“Thanks for the reminder.”

“I don’t understand how you want me to help.”

“I just want you,” he muttered. “It kills me that I fucked you over when we were kids. It kills me that I didn’t tell you I wanted you to stay,” he admitted. “Kills me I can’t do something to make you want to stay now.”

You could hardly hear his voice over the intensity of your heart rate. “What do you want me to say? We’ve had some fun, but it’s not like you’re promising me more. We live in different cities, you’re in Texas now. I am not going back. I left for a reason.”

“And what was that?” he challenged.

“…you.”

“Me?” he repeated almost a whisper.

“Yes, you. I graduated college and got out as quickly as I could. I didn’t want to run in the same circles anymore, I didn’t want to bump into you on a street corner. Fuck, the night of Emily’s comp, I didn’t even want go knowing you’d be there. When we were in college, I stupidly fucking thought you and I would end up together. We’d do everything that was expected of us, but you… you saw so far beyond us. It hurt. It affected everything I did until I got here and restarted my life.”

“Did you love me then?”

“Yes, I did,” you knew this certainly. That was why it hurt so much at the time and probably why it made you feel as confused as it was now.

“Do you still love me now?”

“No,” you replied. “No, I don’t, Lance.”

“Oh.”

“What do you want me to say, Lance?” you asked him softly. “We’re not silly little kids anymore.”

“Yeah, I know,” he admitted.

“Lance, look, if I held a grudge, do you think I would have taken this phone call?”

“Guess not,” he admitted with a scoff.

“We don’t need to get into the past,” you said softly. “That’s all it is.”

“It can stay there,” he agreed.

“Exactly,” you agreed and you both fell into a silence.

“Baby?” he asked finally.

You only hummed in reply.

“Regardless, I still miss you. Thanks for answering the phone, huh?”

“Of course,” you sighed. “Are you okay?”

“I’m just worried that Maggie might lash out and I will miss out on time with Charlotte,” he confided. “That’s all.”

“I understand, Lance. I’m sure that won’t happen.”

And you truly hoped it wouldn’t. Here was a man that loved his little girl. It took two to tango. Unfortunately for Maggie, it changed her whole life. But it did for Lance as well. You didn’t know how to advise Lance, but a kind ear would be the best he could get.

“Can I still come see you?”

You bit your lip and gave in. “Anytime.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Interested Bystander writes](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/interestedbystanderwrites) on Tumblr.  
> 


	10. Chapter 10

“Should I be surprised how you managed to weasel into my secure apartment building?” you sighed as you spotted Lance sitting at your front door, his phone in hands and overnight night bag beside him, very casual: jeans, sneakers and Henley. He finished his text and bounced to his feet, a gentle smile on his lips. “You’re early, by the way.”

You cursed inwardly, he hadn’t given you any time to freshen up. Damn him.

“You’d be surprised how well recognised I still am,” he shrugged smugly.

“Well, as long as you keep riding those fifteen minutes, Lance,” you tapped his shoulder in mock support and moved past him to unlock the front door, he followed you in.

“I won this great nation Gold at an Olympic Games,” he annuncuated. “I’m still a coach to international champions, sweetheart,” he reminded you as you rolled your eyes and feigned surprise.

“My God, I had no idea. I’m glad you managed to slip that one in, Lance,” you held your heart in mocking.

He chuckled quietly. “And I have nice eyes, a great smile - look at these precious dimples - my body was created by the Gods as you’re aware and can pretty much get my hands on anything I want when I want it,” he continued, walking straight to the kitchen bench and pulling the bottle of whiskey from the makeshift bar (also known as the corner on your apartment bench that would allow a bottle of whiskey and red wine always on hand). “Where are your tumblers?”

“Tumblers? This look like a bar, Tucker?” you asked, slipping your heels off. “Glasses in the cupboard,” you pointed.

“Leave ‘em on,” Lance winked - you’d almost forgotten about his foot fetish. “So, this is your work attire?” his eyes purposefully drank in your frame as you purposefully kicked off the remaining heel and collapsed on the couch.

“Are you gonna bring that drink over here?” you muttered and ignored him as he broke into a wide smile, opening the freezer to get some ice. He collected a couple of glasses and brought the whiskey with him.

“Are you gonna order that pizza you were talking up over text all day? I’m starved and need a carb binge,” he replied, tapping his belly (razor sharp abs) and taking a seat beside you to pour you both a glass. “Cheers.”

“Thanks,” you took a well-earned sip, picking up your phone to order your pizza from the wood fire place around the corner. “Does anyone know you’re here?”

“I have the weekend off. I can back quick enough if Maggie needs me for the baby,” he explained the latter part quietly as you nodded.

“Maggie okay?”

Lance sighed, rubbing his eyes. “Yeah, she has forgiven me, I guess. I dunno, it is what it is.”

“You being here won’t cause an issue?” you asked warily as he shrugged.

You remained silent, not wanting to get caught up in a discussion about Maggie and their topsy turvy relationship again. “I needed a release, so I texted you and took my leave from camp. I can’t believe how close we are to heading overseas,” he changed the subject abruptly to suit you both.

“Are you prepared?” you asked, a little relieved.

“IOC does everything for us. Basically all I do is turn up with my uniforms, toothbrush, passport and a few other things and get on a plane,” he replied, pushing a loose piece of hair behind your ear. “IOC provides the condoms.”

“Classy, Lance,” you rolled your eyes.

He chuckled. “There is a lot of hormones in the Olympic Village,” he added knowingly.

“Stop talking, please? I don’t need to hear about your exploits with the Romanian team again…”

He shrugged modestly, closing his eyes in what you assumed was memory, taking a sip of his whiskey. “What a pliable group of girls,” he teased as you scoffed loudly. He laughed. “Sorry, I’m just trying to get a rise out of you. I mean, if it makes you feel any better, it’s not like I’m going to be messing around over there.”

You weren’t sure if your jaw hit the floor. Lance Tucker’s sexual prowess made it way beyond the gossip and innuendo of the Olympic team. He’d been in tabloid rags, on the arm of all kinds of minor television starlets. Lance Tucker keeping his dick in his pants was a riveting article on its on.

See Maggie Townsend. You’ll never forget reading the article of coach and pupil and their “unexpected but extremely wanted baby girl that completed them”. That quote still made your heart ache. What should have been a PR disaster pitted Lance and Maggie on the cover of low grade weekly magazines, discussing their commitment to each other, their little girls and the jokes that would ensue if Charlotte wasn’t interested in gymnastics. For a small time, they were media darlings before it all fell apart and they parted ways.

“That matters little to me,” you muttered in a complete lie, stretching you legs and Lance placed his glass on the coffee table and took your calves into his calloused palms, starting on the tight muscles, his lips turned up in amusement.

“Well, after Maggie, I don’t really sleep around much anymore,” he told you.

“God, you don’t know when to stop, do you?” you had to ask, exasperated. “Sense the tone,” you begged.

“Baby, I’m just telling you. A lot has changed. I don’t know if I’m looking for ‘the one’, but I’m not looking for ‘right now’.”

“This has what to do with me, exactly?”

“Well, you’re my ‘right now’,” he continued, focusing on your legs in his hands.

“That’s just great,” you huffed, wondering if that’s what it felt to be slapped with a wet fish. “Honestly all women truly want to hear that you’re their good time call.”

“I don’t want you to be my good time call, I think you know that by now. Would I be here if that was the case?” he sighed, a little tired of your defensiveness. “Jesus, your legs are tight, but you still have fantastic definition. What is your gym routine? We should work together. You were so good on the floor.”

Your head was spinning. He wanted more?! He wanted to know what you did at the gym?! Why was he talking about your pet event?! How the questions were mutually exclusive in his messy brain, you’ll never know and felt too tongue tied to reply. “We are not having this conversation.”

“What, about your calves?” he asked, not looking up but you could see the shiteating grin on his profile. Why did he have a face so fucking slappable? It’s like he knew as he let out a low rumble of laughter. “You hate me right now, right?”

“You just never stop fucking with me, do you?” you accused, blood pumping in your ears as you moved away from him to pace across the rug on the floor, the audacity of his fucking face as he smirked at you. “What kind of idiot do you take me for, Lance?”

“I don’t think you’re an idiot,” he admitted, holding his hands up. “Not at all.”

“Then why do you do this to me? You want me, but you don’t know if you want everything. It was never supposed to be like this. We agreed. Sex, nothing more.”

“I know,” he nodded. “It was purely to feel good. Aren’t we doing that though?” he stood up and moved before you as you turned heel to attempt another lap across the floor. “Baby,” he grasped your wrists, hands rising up your arms, causing goosebumps, to cup your jaw and force your eyes to meet his. “Stop. You’ll put a hole in the rug.”

“No, you stop,” you hissed back, unable to stop yourself putting your finger in his face. “Stop this, stop messing with me. You don’t know what you want. You never have. You just love the chase, the tease, the game. But you’ve already done this to me. You don’t have to do it again, Lance. You won already. What do you gain by making me this person I hate again?”

“I haven’t won anything and I certainly don’t want you to hate yourself,” he replied, a little taken back as he lowered your hand, gently.

“God, I want to slap the spit out of your mouth,” you mumbled, pushing his hands off you and falling back onto the couch. Lance blinked a few times, before reaching out. You resisted snatching your hand back as his felt so good as he massaged your palm and traced your fingers, kneeling before you.

“After all this time, you’d think, you… the one person who can see past all my bullshit,” he started softly. “Can see me for who I truly am,” he blinked behind his long lashes. “I know I play games, I know I’m a prick. Trust me, I’ve heard it all before. I never wanted this to be my life, you know? Gymnastics just took over and it was all I was ever really good at. I’m fucking in my thirties now, and a part-time national coach? Keeps me away from my little girl. Keeps me away from the woman I love. Keeps me away from – ”

“What?” you cut in.

“What what?” he frowned, confused.

“Lottie and who? Who are you in love with?” you heard how your voice demanded the truth from him but you were too angry to take a backstop now.

He turned beet red – you don’t think you’d ever seen Lance Tucker blush, if you were honest you figured it was a physical impossibility for him. He didn’t get embarrassed. He hid behind ego and innuendo, he was so infrequently let or turned down that when he was put on the spot, he didn’t cope well if unprepared. “I – uh… we – ” he tried before rubbing his face and hiding his stony eyes and raking his slender fingers through his curly hair and pulling at the ends. “Don’t you know how I feel?” he said finally, easing back on his feet and giving you some space.

Your jaw was gaping, you knew how uncouth you must have looked. Your mind raced, but your mouth found it impossible to formulate a reply. Your mouth was dry and the ability to speak had left you.

“I’m not asking for anything,” he eventually continued when he realised you couldn’t manage a response. His voice was soft. “I know I’ve done a lot of shitty things. To you, to others, to myself. I am pretty good at sabotaging most good things in my life – the exception being gymnastics.”

He raised an eyebrow when you remained silent.

“You’re starting to scare me.”

“I’m sorry,” you managed finally. “I just…”

“What?”

“I never expected any of this.”

“I am a little more multifaceted from that gym douchebag I was when I was a college student,” he stifled a small laugh, reaching to the coffee table and taking a sip of his whiskey. “I hope you can see that, even just a little.”

“I see some growth,” you said, before cringing. If there was one thing Lance didn’t need, it was an introduction to ambiguity. To make his own assumptions on what you really meant. You awaited his expected reply. When his trap stayed shut, you nodded in spite of yourself. “Not even a crack about a hard cock to make? …maybe you have grown up.”

Lance cackled, moving back to the couch and falling back into the plush cushions beside you. “I was thinkin’ it,” he shrugged, modestly. “I’m not dead, you know.”

You managed a small smile of your own as Lance’s fingers laced into your hair and he sighed. “What do you want, Lance?”

“Baby… it’s been a long time coming. And maybe those feelings from when we were kids never really disappeared. When I saw that Emily was going to be competing a few months back, I desperately hoped you’d be there. And God, when I saw you, all grown up, self-assured, as beautiful as the last time I saw you when we were at school and my God, just as fuckin’ sassy, I was a mess. Every feeling I had from when we were kids just hit me. Again. Harder.”

“Then you got me drunk so you could go down on me.”

Lance laughed again. “I maintain my innocence. I never intentionally got you drunk and I swear, I never expected you to vomit on my shoes and have to drag you back to my hotel room. Gotta say, you weren’t exactly a sight, babydoll.”

“And not even that turned you off.”

He smiled, rolling his eyes. “I’m still a man – I could see a beautiful woman in my bed. One I remembered from long nights in each other’s dorm rooms, trying not to get caught watching you when we were training and how exciting it was to sneak off to be with you when we were at meets. Are all our memories as kids appalling? I thought we had fun when we weren’t fighting.”

You paused a moment to think about it, surprised he didn’t add how good the fucking was after those raucous fights. “No,” you slightly shook you head. “We had fun,” you admitted.

“Remember your roommate had gone home for the weekend and we made house the whole time?” he grinned. “We made grilled cheese on that old as fuck fry pan, my God, I don’t know how we didn’t burn down the whole fucking dorm.”

“So domesticated,” you gave him a fond smile, resisting a giggle that you desperately wanted to give in to.

“That bed was so tiny.”

“Sure was…” you had to agree and met his eyes. “My bed is a bit bigger these days though.”

Lance’s grin widened. “Are you hittin’ on me?”

“No,” you giggled bashfully, a little embarrassed you let it slip.

“Bullshit you aren’t – that was a line!”

“I don’t have to use lines on you, Tucker,” you added smartly.

“What, you think just because you have me here that I’ll fall for some light teasing and let you do whatever the fuck you want to?” he provoked, leaning forward. “Show me your room, let me be the judge of the bed size and if it will be big enough to show us both a really good time,” he stood and offered his hand to you which you took as he pulled you to your feet and into his arms. “I promise,” he breathed. “You are going to get the best version of me.”

His grip around your waist tightened as your wobbly knees almost went from under you. “I don’t want to rush this,” you said, hearing the tremor in your voice.

He nodded, his eyes boring into yours as he rested his forehead against yours. “Me either, baby. But let me show you the man I can be. You deserve it. We deserve this.”

“I’m not going to let you hurt me again.”

“I won’t,” the sincerity in his voice true. “Let’s give this a go.”

“What about long distance?”

“I’m here right now,” he gave you a gentle kiss, a kiss unceremoniously unlike Lance Tucker and it was incredible. There was no possession, no roughness. Just soft lips that were made for kissing among other things. “We can work out the finer things as we go, baby,” he hitched you into his arms, wrapping your legs around his strong waist. “Let’s give that bed of yours a workout for a while first.”

“But the pizza!” you remembered.

“Fuck the pizza, they can leave it with the damn doorman,” he said, stalking you both to your bedroom, lips crushing yours.

* * *

“I couldn’t possibly come again,” you grunted in disbelief as Lance chuckled, his chapped lips clamping down on your neck as his fingers played with you. “Oh, my God,” you cried, covering your mouth with your hands. Lance quickly snatched it away.

“Fuck no, I want your building to hear you come,” he said, a glint of fire in his eyes as he strained his hips into yours. “Jesus, you feel so good. So wet, I can’t take much more. Come baby, come hard.”

The bed was a disaster, the sheets and duvet had been whipped out in a frenzy hours ago. The pizza delivery guy had come and gone, the city was well and truly black aside from some random apartment lights seeping through the window and Lance had been ruthless. His mission was to leave you a soggy bag of bones and he was brutally succeeding.

“Right there,” you hummed to him as his lips met yours, wanting to be kissing you as your body ebbed and trembled around his. He muttered in pleasure, swearing to himself how your body was made for him as the sweat that coated your bodies kept you impossibly tight against the other. “Fuck, Lance.”

“You are so close,” he told you, taking your hands in one of his and holding them above your head, forcing himself in deeper. “You are so tight around me,” he grinded harder, his free hand tracing down your side and between your bodies, circling on your slippery clit as your body contorted under his. “Yes, lemme hear you,” he said as you started to give into to the pressure and pleasure of each other, coming hard as he continued to fuck you through the vibrations of your body as you came undone again.

Lance giggled quietly into your neck as his hips speed up, his release not coming until he knew he could take from you what he could. “Come baby,” you begged him, freeing your hands to wrap your arms around his shoulders as he forced his lips onto yours again and kissed you hard, his moans making you smile as he finally exploded, coming again in a fitful, grunting mess.

“We’re gonna need to burn this room,” Lance told you, out of breath as his body collapsed onto yours.

“Yup,” you agreed, trying to tame his wild curls as he rested his cheek on your breast, both breathless. “You okay?”

He only hummed in reply.

“Little spent?”

Again, a hum but his hips moved to withdraw leaving a puddle between you – it was definitely time to change the sheets.

“It’s funny when you can’t talk. I like it,” you giggled as he rolled his eyes.

“Don’t get used to it,” he mumbled, his tongue drawing circles around your hard nipple, before sucking it into his mouth to gently bite. You gasped, still exceptionally stimulated after God knows what number orgasm that was. “I’ll make you come again as a punishment.”

“You owe me a nap,” you said, almost unable to believe that you could be ready to deny more pleasure. Your body ached in the most amazing way, hypersensitivity still shuddering through you as he tenderly touched you.

“You’re right, I do,” he told you. “Roll over, I’m about to repulse you and snuggle in close.”

You couldn’t resist and burst out laughing – he shut you up with a warm kiss before rolling you into position, his chest to your back and his murderous thighs wrapping around yours as you kept giggling. You couldn’t deny it, his strength behind you filled you with warmth as your laughter ceased and he enveloped his arms around you.

“When you wake up, I might even make love to you,” he sniped as you dissolved in mirth again, this time he joined you before slumber found you both deeply, comfortably and it was purely due to the other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Interested Bystander writes](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/interestedbystanderwrites) on Tumblr.  
> 


	11. Chapter 11

“Be safe, huh?” you said to Emily as she smiled widely in her vibrant Team USA uniform, hair pinned back off her face revealing her exuberance. The day that seemed like a hopeful dream months ago was finally here – your little sister was about to board a plane overseas to represent the country at The Games. It was an incredible feat, a goal when you were a young gymnast that you were never able to achieve but here you were watching Emily, full of confidence and the most infectious smile you’d ever seen grace her youthful features. It was truly beautiful. It made you smile just as wide as well.

“Are you sure you can’t, like, just jump on a plane and come with me?” she begged again, gripping her gym-hard calloused hands upon your shoulders. “I mean, Dad will fund you – ”

You laughed, blushing. “Money isn’t the problem,” you told her in the overwhelming mess of bodies around you.

“Then come with us!” she protested with a playful stomp as you pulled her in for a hug.

“You don’t need me there to be a world champion. I’ll be up at the ass crack of dawn to watch you… and you are extremely well aware that tickets are sold out,” you added.

“Coach Tucker!” Emily exclaimed as Lance turned around, moving his attention away from his phone with a frown. His lips moved into an aggrieved pout and all you wanted to do was kiss the scowl off his handsome features. That, or slap it.

He’d been texting you constantly since he’d seen that you arrived at the airport earlier – he knew you would be there to solely see Emily off and you had refused to pull out your phone, much to his detriment, you hoped. You’d both had said your goodbyes the night before a few times over (and maybe once or twice this morning for luck) and you knew Lance was probably only blowing up your phone with crude texts anyway – it wasn’t worth piquing Emily’s attention by humouring him to read them.

“Emily,” he replied, a bored tone apparent as he walked over to join you, maybe an inch or so too close to you that you could feel his constant body heat and slightly overcome by his cologne, his stance wide, hips forward and strong arms crossed over his broad chest.

You already missed his smell and suddenly, you didn’t want him to leave without you. Your heart thundered in your chest and you were overwhelmed with dread that he was leaving and wondered if he could feel it too.

“There must be a way to get my sister a ticket! I mean, you guys are friends, right? Can’t you snag one somehow for her?” Emily begged of him, gripping his wrist as he unpried it gently.

“All tickets are allocated. You were given two. Your parents, I assume. No one gets more than two,” Lance reiterated, turning back to his phone before snapping, “Rules are rules,” before walking away again.

“What a delight,” you muttered to Emily, who nodded.

You knew that was a little cold – and yeah, okay, it was a little more obvious to you than say, Emily. Lance had tried to hand off one of his tickets to you as he presented you with the airline tickets to join him and a vacation afterwards. He wasn’t devastated when you turned him down but he was a little unhappy. He’d since gotten over it, he understood why you said no. You’d both decided that you would keep this fling quiet until at least after The Games – you didn’t want to disrupt Emily’s preparation and worse… have Lance’s reputation the focus of his team, instead of Gold for their country. Yes, things were kept between the two of you. Your parents knew you were dating someone after your step-mother noticed Lance’s sneakers at the door one visit and thankfully, they didn’t press anything.

And of course, letting a bunch of gymnasts gossip and for this to get back to Maggie? No fucking thank you. Lance wanted that announcement on his terms. It suited you as well.

Emily sighed as boarding calls for the Olympic team’s private flights were announced. “Good luck,” you told her, a little overwhelmed between her and Lance. “You’re going to be amazing. And when you win, because you will, remember who taught you how to do your first tumble, okay?”

She giggled with a nod as you hugged her, blinking back your proud tears. “Pretty sure you were pushing me over, if the story mom and dad is true.”

You jaw gaped, innocently. “It was a tumble, I swear,” It wasn’t. “I love you, play hard. But have some fun too. You might not get this opportunity again.”

She gave you an incredulous look. “Please,” she whispered. “This is just the beginning of my dynasty.”

You assumed Lance had put those very words into his charges head and were a little amused at Emily’s delivery, Lance Tucker 101. You giggled to yourself just thinking about it. “I guess so,” you agreed. “Gimme another hug and then get on the plane. Text me when you get there, no matter the time.”

“I will,” she grasped you tightly.

“Got your passport?”

“Yes,” she rolled her eyes. “For the millionth time.”

“Good girl. Stay safe. Call your parents as soon as you land.”

She inhaled sharply, possibly realising the weight of what was waiting on the other side of the flight. She adjusted her backpack, plastered a false smile across her face and turned heel, waving without looking back.

You eagerly took your phone from your pocket that had been blowing up.

_Lance: Your ass in those jeans are what make my wet dreams and I honestly didn’t think your ass would make me a poet._

_Lance: I’m no poet. Just a dick and I really want to use it._

_Lance: Think about where you want me to put it when I get home._

_Lance: Mouth, pussy, ass. God, that all sounds incredible._

_Lance: Why is your sister calling out for me? I’m trying not to look at you. Ignore you._

_Lance: You look beautiful today. I really want to kiss you but I’ll remember we said our goodbyes this morning._

_Lance: I love you, if there is wifi on board, make sure you take a pic of your tits, huh?_

_Lance: Before you get shitty, I’m kidding. You know that, not even I am that deviant._

_Lance: Besides, I’ve got enough pix of your tits._

_Lance: Be good, I’ll see you in a few weeks. Don’t miss me as much as I already miss you xxx_

You bit back a smile, rolling your eyes. Only Lance could be so vulgar and as you’d learned and he’d started to recall, tender. You texted him back, hoping his phone wasn’t turned off already.

* * *

The bed was cold – without Lance’s body heat overwhelming you as it did every night, the room was freezing and too quiet without his occasional light snoring. Lance had been gone a week now and The Games were in full swing. Emily was going for Gold the next day. Incredible.

You sighed, rolling to your back, staring blankly at the roof. Her event would be in the middle of the night yet you couldn’t get your eyes to close prior to it. Your alarm was set for a few hours later to get you up and in front of the TV for Emily’s event. Your room lit up gently. You reached for your phone and smiled, seeing Lance’s name – you had learned when you started dating again to ensure you turned off the message preview, never sure what kind of nature to expect. You opened the message and chewed you lip, humoured.

_Lance: I know you’re probably asleep but wish you were here. Emily is SO ready. I hope your parents have room on their mantle for this Gold she’s about to snag._

You replied instantly.

_I’m awake. I can’t sleep. Guess I’m nervous. Are you able to talk?_

The phone rang a few minutes later as you answered. “Hi, baby,” he said quietly, obviously not as private as you wanted him to be. You could hear a little commotion behind him. “You should be sleeping.”

“I should be,” you admitted, a yawn creeping through. “How are you feeling?”

He snickered. “It’s not my first rodeo,” he answered as you rolled your eyes.

“D-Bag,” you muttered as he giggled.

“Sorry, but it’s not. This is what I’m actually really great at.”

“Yeah, I know,” you agreed. “I’m proud of you.”

It was quiet on the other end for a moment, before he answered with a very, very quiet ‘Thank you’, before he added, “So, what are you wearing?” he tried in a whisper as you bit back a grin. You could hear the voices in the background of the excited team in warm up.

“Practically nothing,” you replied. “Your gym t-shirt,” you thumbed at the fabric. “No undies.”

He grunted. “Really?”

You scoffed, you truly enjoyed messing with him occasionally. “No, I’m in warm flannel PJ’s. I’m fucking freezing here without you. You left and took your body heat with you, jerk.”

He laughed, a genuine heart-warming chuckle that made you so happy it was because of you. “I’m sorry. I will bring it back as soon as I can… so, I was talking to your old man last night.”

“Oh, yeah?” you asked warily. Dread overtook you. The last thing you needed was for Lance to be spending any time with your family while you weren’t there to run any kind of interference.

“Yeah, we were talking after the day’s comp finished. He said maybe I should give you a call. You know, get coffee one day when I’m in the city,” he couldn’t resist his giggle that seeped through the phone line and it made you laugh, sitting yourself up to snuggle into what had been his pillow and pulling up the duvet to keep warm. His smell lingered. God you actually, really missed Lance Tucker.

“You’re kidding, what did you tell him?”

“I smiled, forced a slight blush and thanked him for looking out for me. I asked him if he thought you’d actually be interested in a douche canoe like me. He could not give me your number quick enough. Although he thought you might have even seeing someone - that part he wasn’t pleased about,” he added thoughtfully.

“Did you actually said ‘douche canoe’?” you cringed because not a lot of people needed to see that uncensored version of Lance and is inability to shut his trap at the worst of times.

“No, I think I just said something like… ‘oh, you think she’d be interested in catching up again after such a long time? I miss her a lot, sir’,” he reiterated. “Wasn’t untrue - miss you, kid.”

You chewed on your lip, sighing. “Ditto.”

“So, I guess your old man isn’t put off by the fact I’ve already got a child.”

“Guess not,” you agreed. “So nice of Dad to be looking out for me.”

“So nice,” Lance mockingly agreed. “Think I should take him up on his suggestion?”

“I might even say yes if you’re lucky.”

He hummed. “Phew – ” he cut himself off, you heard the commotion behind him and he told someone else ‘okay’. “I hate to say this, baby, but I gotta go. Need to get these kids to warm up.”

“Okay,” you sighed, nervousness that this was now becoming real. “Good luck, Tucker. I know you don’t need it, but you know…”

“Thank you,” he said with genuine affection in his voice. “I will speak to you later. Love you.”

“Love you too, lover,” you answered softly as he hummed and both hung up with a broad smile. You put the phone back down, suddenly exhausted before cuddling back into the pillows and trying to get a few hours kip before Emily’s life would be changed forever.

* * *

Spoiler alert? Emily won. _Naturally_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Interested Bystander writes](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/interestedbystanderwrites) on Tumblr.  
> 


	12. Chapter 12

Unlocking the apartment door and easing yourself in with arms full of groceries, you revealed bouquets and bouquets of flowers exquisitely scenting the small space and Lance, shirtless and jeans loose around his hips, accentuating that beautiful Venus belt and hideous tattoo.

“Let’s swap,” he suggested, welcoming you at the door with a gentle kiss. Oh, you’d missed those soft lips, a bit miffed he’d ended it after with single peck after such a long time away. He handed you a glass of champagne as he took the bags from you and moving them to the kitchen while you oversaw the gorgeous blooms. Roses, all in various pastel shades. Light, nothing bold. Romantic, stunning. Very unlike Lance Tucker.

A little overwhelmed, you were hesitant to move in case Lance was about to something really fucking stupid – your limbs were paralysed in fear. “You’re back!” you found your voice, purposefully ignoring the situation you had just walked into.

“I’m home, baby,” he confirmed. “It is not a mirage, your Gold medal-winning head coach man is stateside,” he whispered, proudly.

“I almost didn’t see you in between all the flowers…” you gave him a pointed look.

“You don’t like them?” he asked, a little saddened, chewing his lip nervously.

“No, I do…” you said quickly as you noticed candles lit on the coffee table and tea lights scattered in various crevices. “This is beautiful, Lance. It’s just a bit much, don’t you think? What’s going on?”

“Now don’t say anything,” Lance said quietly, holding his hands up gently. Well, if you weren’t paranoid before –

“What the fuck are you – ” you tried.

He raised his hand, needing the quiet. “Baby, please. I have something important to ask you. It was on my mind the whole time I was away,” he moved to a knee and gave you a hopeful smile.

“Get up,” you begged, taking a step to him and trying to raise him from the floor but he went deadweight and you weren’t going to move him, he was too strong. He sighed and gave you his puppy dog eyes (which you were realising you fell for repeatedly these days). “Lance, please don’t say or do anything stupid.”

“Have a little more faith in me,” he held you hips firmly and moved you to sit on his thigh with a weak hum escaping him. “Please let me say this. I need to say this,” he said solemnly as you clasped you hand to your forehead realising he was about to ruin everything you have both tried to work through to then.

“Why are you trying to ruin this – ”

“Baby, you are the love of my life. I have loved you for so long. And I lost you for many years. But now, right here in this moment: I propose we ride each other all fuckin’ night,” he announced. You looked up and were greeted with the most thoroughly mischievous grin you’d ever seen cross Lance’s face. “Messy, sweaty, good old fashioned banging to celebrate how good our bodies are together.”

You blinked a few times as you tried to collect your thoughts. “You are mad.”

“Little over the top, yeah?” he smiled wickedly. “You’re trying to tell me you didn’t remotely enjoy coming home to all these flowers, candles and champagne? I call bullshit.”

You managed a laugh, your heart rate dropping back to near normal levels as you breathed. “The flowers are lovely,” you admitted as he adjusted his posture to sit in the floor and you straddling across both thighs. He eased back on his hands as you leaned forward to kiss him properly.

“Are you honestly thinking I was about to ask you to marry me? Jesus, baby, I love you, but fuck… relax,” he laughed as you gave his bare chest a thwack and he hissed with a pleased giggle. “Ow.”

“You are such a dick and you deserved that. Get up,” you gave him your hand to help him up as he grinned broadly, pulled you into his arms and kissed you hard and wet. That was more of what you were expecting when he got home. “Much better,” you muttered as he smiled against your lips.

“I missed you so much,” he admitted. “You have no idea.”

“I missed you too, Tucker,” you snuggled into his chest, his cologne grounding you. “Seriously, how do you keep getting into the building?”

“I’m best friends with your doorman now. By the way, I think you should move to a safer building.”

* * *

 

Lance was sleeping on his back, your head on his chest, gently tracing the muscles on his smooth torso. In your free hand, you were spying your open texts, hoping not to rouse him. Emily was at home and texting if there was a good time to stay, she wanted to show off her medal and spend some time shopping after her media commitments had ceased. Lance had told you he would be leaving the next morning to make the rounds with the team which saddened you but you knew he would be back as quickly as he could.

You come anytime, you know that, you texted back.

She replied straight away with some dates that you eagerly agreed to. You’d have to tell Lance when he woke up that he’d have to stay closer to home. You heard a yawn as his face moved and kissed your hair.

“Why aren’t you sleeping?” he asked, his voice raspy from sleep. His jet lag had kicked in and after you’d fucked all over the apartment and then some so you gave him some respite. He deserved it, despite his eager protests.

“I think I have to tell Emily, Lance,” you whispered as he adjusted his posture around you with a nod.

“If you want.”

“You don’t mind?”

“Well, I have told Maggie,” he said.

Bombshell.

You hadn’t discussed making this public yet.

You looked up at him. “What?”

“I told Maggie,” he repeated, wrapping an arm around you to calm you before you could commit him to a fight. “Come on, she knew I was messing around with someone.”

“Messing around,” you muttered to yourself, rolling your eyes at him as he gave you a meek grin in return. “Thanks.”

“She knows you’ve met Lottie, sweetheart. I thought it best to be honest and tell her… we’re not messing around here – it’s a little more than that,” he clarified.

Argh, personal growth milestone, you groaned to yourself, somehow proud and pissed off at him at the same time. He was capable of many things, Lance Tucker. The worst was making you feel far too many emotions at once and he knew it too, considering the shiteating grin that grew across his handsome features.

“Lance…” you whined, dropping your head. “We didn’t discuss that.”

“No,” he agreed. “But you’re spending time with my daughter. It seemed pretty obvious that I would have to tell her at some point.”

“How did Maggie take it?”

He nodded. “She was okay. She has been seeing some dude that hasn’t met Charlotte yet so that kind of freed her up to do that too. She wants us all to meet,” he reached for your soft hand in his calloused one. “If you’re cool with that?”

You looked up to give him the respect he deserved for taking such a positive step. “Yeah,” you reached across to gently kiss him. “Let’s do that,” you said finally and sat up further to kiss his well on the mouth.

He blinked with a small smile as he came to. “What was that for?”

“Lance Tucker, I think you might be growing up.”

He laughed, rubbing his tired eyes. “Don’t tell anyone – my reputation will be shattered.”

“What, it was good before this?”

He snickered louder. “I’m taking my penance,” he reminded you. “Firmly.”

He sure was. And he was turning into the man you’d always wanted to find. You were suddenly staggered that you were falling harder and further in love with someone who’d hurt you so bad as a child and was proving to you just what a good man and father he was. You hoped you were helping a little too.

“You’re looking at me weird again,” he said, unsure under your gaze.

“I love you.”

He pouted before chewing his chapped lips. “I know. Must be awful for you.”

“It really is,” you admitted as he giggled again and he rolled over, spreading your legs so he could get comfortable between them. “Lance…” you giggled. “You’re insatiable.”

“I’m an athlete. It’s scientifically proven we have higher sex drives. And if you could see how sexy you look right now with you mussed up hair and the look in your eyes that tells me this is exactly what you want – ” he swept his cock between your wet folds and hummed to himself, pleased. “Bonus is that you’re already naked under here and warm, soft skin against mine ain’t too bad either.”

You grinned as he bowed his face to kiss you. “Hard to argue with that.”

Thrusting in, he gave you a cheeky smile. “Good, let’s fuck instead,” he urgently rolled you over, still buried in deep, while you took his hands and started rocking against him. Watching him lick his lips in satisfaction was what dreams were made of. “Good Christ,” he murmured, holding you around the ribs to meet your thrusts.

You hair was falling in your face as you watched the man below you completely come undone. If things didn’t work out between you, you’d never forget Lance’s face in moments like this and the pleasure that crossed it and be proud that it was you that made him feel that.

His calloused fingers reached out to grasp at your breasts as you moaned, falling across him and he devoured your breasts in his mouth knowing it was a certain way to get you across the line, his long tongue lapping at your nipples, gently chewing as felt as it ever nerve ending in your body was on fire. He did this to you – he always made you feel like this. This good.

Lance forced your hips down on his, a satisfied hiss easing his lips as your body flooded with heat. “Turn around,” he begged as you found your facing away from him and reversed, deeper somehow if possible. Lance was well and truly endowed and knew how to extend that pleasure in a multitude of ways. “Are you okay?” he asked.

“God, yes,” you rocked above him as he massaged your hips, his strong hands falling to your ass and giving it a generous pinch, your walls clenching instinctively as the surprising pain and how his movements erased the pain, it felt incredible. He took your shoulders and pulled you back, your back to his muscular chest and wrapped his legs around yours. One arm around your chest, clutching at whatever breast was within reach and his other moving to your folds to spread them widely, your slick spreading as he toyed with your clit.

“God, Lance, I couldn’t again,” you gasped at the sensitivity and slight tingle of previous orgasms as he chuckled against your neck, leaving a gentle bite before licking the same spot. With just the right angle and the torture on your clit, you came again, your walls closing around his cock as he fucked you harder to enjoy your body shuddering around his. “Yes, fuck yes,” you muttered as your orgasm washing from head to toe, clutching his arms to keep your balance on him tightly.

“You’re so wet and tight, how many times have you come tonight?”

“I’ve lost count,” you admitted as you attempted to collect your breath, collapsing back against him, well spent. He smirked against your skin and unpried your body, rolling you back against the mattress. He knelt between your knees, himself still hard as you reached for his wrist and pulled him over you. He fussed to slide back inside you before his hips thrust manically, coming loud and fast in stereo.

The bed would need to be burned, you realised as the proof of your love making slid out from between your bodies as he kissed your face, neck, chest before flipping off you, out of breath.

“You’re so good at that,” you ran your hands through his crazy curls as he grinned, proudly.

“I know and I’m glad that you do too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Interested Bystander writes](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/interestedbystanderwrites) on Tumblr.  
> 


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter of a fic that should have only been three chapters.

It was out – the world was now aware that you were the significant other of Lance Tucker. Sure, it meant little to most (a few broken hearts to some of his proteges) and frankly, the only opinion you cared about was your family (who were terribly over the moon at the development) and to a lesser degree, Maggie’s. You didn’t want any bad blood or unneeded drama between her and Lance for little Charlotte’s sake.

Emily? She needed a minute. She was suddenly very wary that the reason she had made the National team was only because of you (it certainly was not) and Lance reassured her after she’d belittled him a few times at training when she figured she’d test his patience and pushed his buttons, disrespecting him before her teammates. Turns out, even though their relationship had changed, Lance still treated her like his charge at work and she’d get in line or leave. There was no professional advantage. You were proud of him (and a little for Emily too when she came around). Away from gymnastics, they got along well.

Lance was still based closer to work near Maggie and Charlotte but spent most weekends in the city with you or you went to him when he had his daughter. After far too many flagrant misuses of his “friendship” with the doorman, you had given Lance a key so he came and went as you both pleased and occasionally would make the few hours drive when the need to see, feel and taste the other was just too great.

It was all going exceptionally well. You were kind of relieved Lance worked a few hours away… while the relationship was solid, you still felt like you needed your space. But tonight was one of those nights he made the trip to you because the weekend just seemed too far away and was grinding against you on the couch while you made out like you did when you were younger.

You adored the weight of Lance’s strong body on yours and smiled against his mouth as he wrapped your leg around his waist, his hips curling into yours and his lips leaving yours to move behind your ear, nibbling at your lobe and tracing down to your throat as you knotted your fingers through his unruly dark curls. He’s considerably dropped the overuse of hair gel recently and you loved being able to pull as the thick locks. When he stopped to whip off his shirt, you marvelled at his muscular chest to the light hair that led to his incredible V. It was true, Lance Tucker was like fine wine – he only got better with age.

“You’re overdressed,” Lance muttered as he stood to remove his sneakers and jeans before turning you around to drag down your (his – a pair that he left a while ago) sweat pants (he came over unannounced to surprise you. Sadly he found you on the couch in sweats, watching shitty reality TV though he was thrilled to see the pizza on the coffee table after the long drive), leaving you with little underneath. “Much better,” he murmured before pulling off your top and he took a seat on the couch, slapping his muscular thighs eagerly. “On top, baby.”

You took each other in, only clad in underwear. His Calvin Klein’s were begging to be dragged down and your mouth was salivating to taste him. He gave you his hands and you eagerly climbed into his lap as he pulled you as close as humanly possible and his lips crashing to yours. His large hands kneaded your hips and ass roughly as your kisses got messier and much more urgent. You tightened your grip around his shoulders as he pried his lips from yours and pulled at the cups on your bra, his tongue tracing circles around your eager bud. Your head fell back in pleasure. His tongue was a weapon.

“Lance…” you moaned as he looked up with his bright blue eyes, not ceasing his ministrations. His gleaming teeth appeared and bit you gently. “I want you. Now.”

He smiled and reached around to unclasp your bra and pushing it from your shoulders before his hands slid to your hips and dropping your knickers to the floor as you leaned over and he raised his hips so you could get rid of his boxers as well.

He licked his lips wolfishly, his arms splaying out across the back of the couch, nodding you towards him. “Take a seat, baby and go for a ride.”

* * *

 Waking up the next morning on the couch under a blanket you’d found, Lance’s warm body wrapped around you, you sighed as the alarm demanded attention. Lance hummed and rubbed his face. He had to make the long trip back before peak hour and you had to get ready for work. Neither idea appealed to either of you.

“Nooo…” you grumbled, as the phone slipped from your hand and continued getting louder as Lance hovered over you to find the phone to stop the inferior noise.

“The night went way too quickly,” he yawned, stretching his arms before wrapping them back around you. You gave a slight nod. “Can I shower before I hit the road?”

“You make it sound like we just had a one night stand,” you couldn’t help scoffing as he grinned, perching his chin in his palm and using the other to push some hair back from your eyes.

“Don’t think like that – I’ll be back in a few days.”

“Yeah…” your voice trailed off.

He frowned a little. “What’s up, you gonna miss me?” he teased as you hid your eyes and snuggled into his warm chest. ”Aww,” he giggled quietly. “I thought you liked having your space?” he asked quietly, a note of seriousness in his voice.

“I do,” you admitted. A full time man in your life gave you heart palpations, even if it was Lance.

“But?”

“But… you know.”

“Say it,” he urged quietly. “Surprise yourself.”

You looked up at him and he kissed you encouragingly. “Stay.”

His eyes softened and he sighed. “Trust me, I want to. It’s all I want.”

“Then, just do it,” you mumbled into his chest.

“You know I can’t do that. Work, my baby… they’re hours away,” he said softly. “It tears me in two when I’m away from you and it’s just as bad with Lottie. Baby…” he breathed. “I don’t know how to please everyone.”

You remained silent. This was exactly why you hadn’t bothered to bring it up before. Regardless of how you both felt, Lance’s job and child were hours away. You had an amazing job that you couldn’t just drop… for a relationship. Even if Lance was one that you loved and felt a lot more deeply than you wanted to admit. You’d both worked so hard to get where you were and to just leave it all?

But not having Lance Tucker… that thought made you feel empty.

“I want to keep this going,” he told you. “If work was closer… if Maggie and Lottie were in the city? My God, it would be amazing. The thought I could honestly have it all? And not feel as shitty as I do when I’m not with you or Charlotte? Fuck, it would fix every problem if I could have you both in my life everyday. I know you don’t understand,” he added softly. “And I can’t expect you to. My life is a complicated mess and I’ve dragged you into it too.”

You sat up and tucked your legs under yourself, holding his hand. “I don’t want to make your life harder. I know how dedicated you are. To Charlotte, to work… to me. I never expected it to work out like this. Back in a relationship with you? I thought I was fucking mad, Lance,” you held his stubbly cheeks in your hands. “But you made me change my mind.”

“I never thought this was going to happen,” he agreed. “But here we are.”

There was silence for a while. Everything that had been unsaid to this point suddenly stark and in the open, weighing on your both and the air was uncomfortably thick. Someone had to break the tension and you were suddenly speechless. Nothing else needed to be said, it was simply time for someone to make a move.

“I mean, I can keep doing this. Going between through the week and you coming to us or me coming here over the weekends…” Lance suggested but reading his face, you know how stupid he felt saying it. “Is there any chance you can get a transfer?” he dared ask.

You sighed. “There is nothing like what I do in Huntsville. Right in the middle of Dallas and Houston? Honestly, what was USA Gymnastics thinking?”

He laughed quietly. “I know,” he agreed. He suddenly sat up and matched your posture, taking his hands in yours. “I don’t know how to fix this. We’re going so well but the same issue will keep coming up if we go on, baby,” he said quietly. “I’ll think about it. I know we can make this work. It’ll just take some patience in the short term. But we’ll sort this out,” he leaned over and kissed you deeply. “You’d better get ready for work, sweetheart. I don’t want you to be late on my behalf.”

You nodded solemnly. It was a shitty start to the morning and now you had to face the rest of the day pretending this cloud wouldn’t be hanging over your head.

“Need a partner in there?” Lance offered as you forced a smile and nodded for him to join you.

* * *

 

Running a gym, close to home?

It almost seemed too easy, you realised as you wandered down the hallway to your door, a big bunch of flowers greeting you at the door. If Lance kept this up, he was going to be accused as romantic. It would kill him. You’d pocket that joke for later.

You picked them up and took a deep inhale before unlocking the door and heading inside. After making yourself a quick bite, you gave Lance a call.

“I got eager and did something stupid,” he answered excitedly.

“Hi to you too,” you replied warily. “What did you do?”

“I brought the gym!” he exclaimed. “I am going to resign from my full time roll with the team and I’m moving to be closer to be with you, baby. I’m coming home.”

Your jaw hung with a lack of grace. “But what about Charlotte?” you asked, finally finding your voice.

“I will speak to Maggie but she wants to try and get into professional training again. It might mean I get Lottie a lot over the next while as she gets back into shape.”

He sounded so excited as you heard the blood pumping in your ears, you felt his excitement radiate down the phone line. “Wow,” you managed a small giggle but weren’t as apprehensive as you thought you’d be.

Could this actually work? Could you both have it all? Could you have it all with Lance ‘the Fucker’ Tucker? Yes, you could have it all with Lance Tucker, you realised a real giggle escaping your lips.

“If you think you can do this, you have my 100% support and I’ll help out wherever I can. Yes, do it, Lance. Come home.”

He laughed loudly. “Yes, I will - I’m going to.”

“Are you leaving National coaching altogether?” you asked.

“I’m hoping I can go part-time. So that would mean when there is World’s, Nationals, whatever, I’d be required a little. Do you think that is okay? I mean, I would have to travel and stuff.”

“I think the team would fail miserably without you a part of it. If you think it is possible, yes. I want this. I want this with you.”

After a momentary silence on his end, he replied, “This will be great, I promise. I’ll make you so fuckin’ happy, you’ll kick yourself why you ever let me back in your life,” he joked as you grinned, blinking back a few tears.

“Sounds awful.”

He laughed again. “You got a bottle of booze there? I think we should celebrate by FaceTiming and lots of cyber sex.”

And you know? While that would idea have repulsed you months ago, you quickly made your way to the kitchen to retrieve a glass and organise your laptop to call him back to celebrate your new arrangement. Over, and over. It was a long, messy night but you knew soon enough they would be long, messy nights together.

**Author's Note:**

> [Interested Bystander writes](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/interestedbystanderwrites) on Tumblr.  
> 


End file.
